


A Friend in the Darkness

by through_shadows_falling



Series: MCU Ficlets [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Because Dragons, Cuddling & Snuggling, Deaf Clint Barton, Dragon Steve, Fluff, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, It's a pun get it, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-09-22 11:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9605885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: Bucky was a colossal idiot. He could hear his sister’s voice in his head:"If you are in dire circumstances, never seek solace in a cave, as that is a dragon’s domain. Once you enter, there will be no return, for dragons prey upon weak humans."And now Bucky was staring a dragon right in the face.*ON HIATUS - Most likely will not be completed. Sorry!*





	1. Chapter 1

Bucky was a colossal idiot. He could hear his sister’s voice in his head: 

_If you are in dire circumstances, never seek solace in a cave, as that is a dragon’s domain. Once you enter, there will be no return, for dragons prey upon weak humans._

And now Bucky was staring a dragon right in the face.

If it was the last sight he’d ever see, well, it was a beauty. The dragon was smaller than most, standing no more than twice Bucky’s height even with its neck outstretched. Still, it filled the cavern with its sleek, red body and silver belly that glowed in the light of a fire lit deeper within the cave. Blue stripes outlined the silver, and continued onto the ridges on the dragon’s back, which poked up between massive, folded wings. The three colors melded to form almost a bull’s-eye on the tall fans behind its head, and Bucky could make out what looked like a whitish star-shape at the center of its silver stomach. A birthmark or scar, perhaps? 

Bucky had never been this close to a dragon before; he’d only witnessed them flying like specks up in the sky, or once at night, a dark, winged shadow swooping low to scoop up a helpless sheep from their herd. Bucky could still hear his father cursing the beast.

But Bucky couldn’t curse now. He had no energy for it, not after his escape and the gash in his stomach that still hadn’t sealed. Blood soaked his tunic, so thick he could still smell it over the scent of damp, musty stone and the dragon’s rancid breath tickling his face. 

The dragon shifted, and only then did Bucky’s gaze catch on its outstretched claws and horns and long, studded tail. His heart hammered in his chest, but that was all the reaction he could muster. Blood loss made his head woozy, and he’d known the instant he collapsed within the cave that he wouldn’t be able to stand up again, not unless he was lucky.

Luck, though, had never been on Bucky’s side. That’s why Hydra had managed to capture and torture him instead of the other men in his garrison. He was grateful they’d been spared, and he could picture them laughing at him now. After weeks of pain and hunger and isolation, he’d escaped only to walk straight into a dragon’s den. An amateur move. 

The dragon’s nostrils flared as it sniffed, and Bucky closed his eyes as warm air washed over him. The creature was no doubt preparing to take a bite. Bucky was like a stuffed pig on a platter, helpless and defenseless. 

And then a deep voice rumbled from within the creature’s chest. The dragon’s lips didn’t move, but Bucky heard the voice, as clear as day: 

_Human, you are grievously wounded. Do you require assistance?_

Bucky was dreaming. Or he’d hit his head somewhere. Dragons could talk, of course, but to a human? And to offer help?

The dragon–Bucky thought it was a male due to the voice–cocked his magnificent head, his red scales rippling in response to the motion. His wide, beady yellow eyes peered at Bucky. 

_You are dying._

And for some reason, Bucky thought the appropriate response was to laugh in the dragon’s face. “Uh, yeah.”

The beast reared back and then bared his sharp, pointy teeth. _There is no need to mock me. I can leave you to die easily enough._

“You don’t want to eat me?” Bucky cringed internally. It seemed like his mind-to-mouth filter was long gone.

The dragon huffed. _I do not eat humans, especially not ones as weak and skinny as you._

“Oh.” Bucky’s teeth chattered, and he suddenly realized how cold he was. Right. Dying. 

_Do you want assistance or not?_

A dark tunnel surrounded Bucky’s vision. He blinked, but the black spots didn’t clear. His words came out slurred. “Um. Yeah. Whatever.”

There was a large whooshing sound, but Bucky had already surrendered to the darkness.

* * *

Bucky flailed awake with a gasp, then groaned at the pain flaring in his abdomen. He went to cradle it, but found he only had one arm. 

Oh god, Hydra’d taken his arm. No, no, no, no, no, no…

“Calm down. You’re alive, and you’re safe.”

“Wha’d you do with my arm?” Bucky breathlessly demanded of the strange, deep voice.  

“It was already missing when you arrived. I assume you lost it before, in whatever adventure you were enjoying before you stumbled into my cave.”

At that, Bucky snapped to full alertness. He found himself sitting near a cozy, crackling fire in the center of the cave. His tunic was gone, replaced instead with long, stained bandages that hugged his midsection. 

A lean, bony man sat opposite him, tending the flames. He wore dirty brown trousers and a white shirt, with no shoes in sight. He had high cheekbones and fair features, with a mop of blond hair sitting on top of a long, angular face. In the light of the fire, the only thing that gave him away were his pointed ears, behind which sparkled red and silver scales. 

“You’re the dragon,” Bucky breathed. 

“And you’re the foolish human who fainted on me.”

Bucky winced. “Sorry. And…thank you. For helping me.”

“You’re welcome. Your wound was not easy to cleanse. It was getting infected, so I had to search for the right herbs to cure the ailment.”

Bucky blinked. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“Two days.” 

“Shit.”

The dragon smiled, revealing canine teeth sharper than a regular human’s. “I managed to give you water, but not food. Do you think you can manage some bits of lamb now?”

In response, Bucky’s shriveled stomach let out a pathetic growl. With a sheepish grin, he rubbed it carefully, not wanting to aggravate the wound.

“I take that as a yes.” The man, with far more strength than Bucky would’ve guessed, hauled over to the fire an entire lamb carcass that had already been skinned and cleaned. The meat sizzled once it settled onto large sticks the dragon situated over the flames.

Bucky’s mouth watered as the smell of cooking food met his nostrils. He swallowed. “I’m sorry about disturbing you. I’ll be gone once I can walk.”

The dragon waved his hand dismissively. “It is fine. I find that I don’t mind the company. It has been a long time.” He hugged himself, making his shoulder blades poke out. He was awfully skinny in his human form, but that made sense considering his small stature as a dragon.

“I really am grateful,” Bucky said, leaving a space for the dragon to fill in his name. When he didn’t, Bucky rolled his eyes. “What should I call you?”

The man turned to him and uttered a series of clicks, roars, and growls. 

“Come again?”

He repeated his earlier noises.

“Uh, mind if I call you Steve, then?” Those were sort of similar to the sounds the dragon made. 

The dragon, Steve, appeared to think this over, testing the name on his lips. He finally nodded. “Alright. And what about you?”

“I’m Bucky.”

Steve frowned. “That is an odd human name, is it not?”

“It’s a nickname, technically. That’s what my friends and family call me. My real name is James.”

“James.”

Bucky shivered at the sound of his name emerging from the dragon’s mouth, though he couldn’t explain why.

“James, why are you missing an arm?”

Bucky startled. “What?”

“Were you attacked? I found many injuries on your body.”

Bucky flushed. He didn’t want to think about what Steve had seen. “I, uh, was captured by some of my enemies. And they…tortured me.”

Steve’s eyes flashed. “Torture? So they took your arm?” At Bucky’s shameful nod, he spat. “Humans are vile creatures.”

“Not into violence, huh?” Bucky attempted to crack a smile. Was it possible he had landed himself in the care of the only peace-loving dragon in the land? 

“No, I accept violence, but only when it is justifiable. Hurting you after you have already been bested? There is no reason for that.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s not how Hydra works.”

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth. He spoke something in his dragon language which Bucky assumed was some sort of swear.

“You’ve heard of them, I take it?”

Steve said nothing, and instead busied himself cooking their meal. 

Bucky settled back to watch him, amazed. 

What was his life right now? At least he was safe, for the time being. Then, once he healed up, he could finally go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this happened - I was inspired by some incredible Destiel fan art I saw, and I felt like writing Steve and Bucky instead.
> 
> I might write more in this verse, but we shall see! I need more Dragon!AUs in my life, honestly.


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky didn’t mean to, but he ended up falling asleep next to the fire, his belly now full and a sense of safety permeating the smoky air. A faraway part of him knew it was insane to feel secure in the lair of a dragon, but honestly? If Steve wanted to eat him, he would’ve done so already, and even if he changed his mind, at least Bucky’s death would be faster at his hands than at Hydra’s. After all, based on Steve’s views of violence, Bucky guessed he wasn’t one to play with his food.

Sure enough, Bucky woke up what seemed like hours later, snug beneath a cow hide blanket. Steve hovered nearby, watching him. His eyes were similar to a human’s, but the pupils reflected those of a cat, sometimes slits and sometimes wide circles. 

“Are you comfortable?” Again with that deep voice, strange coming from such a small body.

Bucky shifted under the blanket and basked in the warmth. “Yes, thank you.” He might still be sleeping on a cave floor, but this was leagues better than the conditions of Hydra’s cells. 

“Are you thirsty?”

Bucky frowned, then winced. His throat was indeed parched. He’d managed a few hurried gulps of water from a stream before arriving at Steve’s cave, but eating hadn’t helped his dehydration. 

Steve passed Bucky a full waterskin. It took a moment to get his balance with only one arm, but once he leaned against the wall, he gratefully sipped the cool liquid, all the while aware of the dragon’s gaze on him.

“Will you be requiring anything else?” Steve asked, unblinking. “New clothing, perhaps?” His stare was unnerving. 

“You don’t have to take care of me, you know.” Bucky set aside the waterskin, unsure why Steve’s concern annoyed him.

Steve’s nostrils flared. “You are injured.”

“I _was_ , but I’m getting better. You don’t owe me anything. I’m the one who trespassed and somehow got lucky.” He snorted to himself. Saved by a dragon. His friends back home would hardly believe it.

Steve bristled and stood glowering as his hands twitched at his sides. If he were in dragon form, Bucky could imagine his tail swishing back and forth. 

“I am only trying to assist you.”

“Thank you, but you can stop. Letting me stay here, giving me food, water, and a place to sleep, that’s plenty. More than I’ve had in a while.”

“Exactly. You deserve better.”

Ah, that explained the anger roiling in Bucky’s gut. Steve felt _pity_ for him, the poor, pathetic mortal who’d let himself get caught, tortured, experimented on-- 

“You don’t know me, so stop worrying. I’ll be leaving soon anyways.” Bucky’s words came out harsher than he intended. He didn’t mean to sound unappreciative, but Steve was a stranger, and if Bucky hadn’t been stupid, he would’ve never been involved in the first place. 

Then again, if Bucky had avoided the cave, he also would’ve likely been dead by now. 

Steve huffed and disappeared into a side cavern. Bucky hadn’t noticed it before, but there were several branches off the main cave. At least one had to include a nook where Steve kept things like his clothes and blankets. 

Bucky ground his teeth, berating himself. Stupid misplaced guilt. He shouldn’t have lashed out at Steve like that. The dragon was being kind, and Bucky, as usual, was being an ass. He could hear his mother chiding him; even though he hadn’t had a meaningful conversation with anyone in a while, that didn’t excuse such rude behavior. 

With a grunt, Bucky pressed his hand to the wall and leveraged himself to his feet. He staggered toward the side cavern and stopped at the entrance, his mouth agape. 

The cavern was narrower here where the ceiling dipped low, but the space was still long enough to house what looked like hundreds of canvases, large and small, some blank and others covered in paint. 

Steve sat on the ground amongst the mess, a mortar and pestle in hand. He appeared to be grinding down pigment. A collection of horsehair paintbrushes were stacked beside him, along with a shelf of tiny glass jars, each containing a different color. Steve’s jaw clenched as he worked, and Bucky admired the rippling of his arm muscles. He might’ve appeared wimpy on the outside, but he was definitely stronger than he looked. 

Bucky’s legs trembled beneath him, and he finally had to sit, breathing hard. The world spun, and sweat beaded his brow.

“You are obviously in no condition to leave soon.” Steve’s smug glance flickered to him, then back to his paints.

Bucky meant to apologize, he really did, but instead he blurted out, “You hoard art? I thought dragons collected gold.”

Steve stiffened. “Most of my brethren do, yes, but I find it impractical, not to mention unbearably gaudy. Art is more valuable, and it affords easier commerce with humans.” 

Bucky’s mouth continued to run. “Wait, so you paint these and sell them to people?” 

Steve eyed him defiantly. “Yes.”

“But you’re a dragon.”

“And you are an annoying human whom I clearly should not have wasted time helping.”

Bucky never wanted to punch himself more. “I’m sorry. Really, I...” He swallowed hard. “It’s been a while since anyone treated me with kindness.”

Steve sighed, and a small curl of smoke drifted from his nose. “I understand, and I apologize if I was being too aggressive with my care.” He sounded oddly wistful.

“You weren’t. This is all on me.” Bucky pointed to his head. “I’m not...100% yet.”

“Hydra is lower than vermin.” Steve spat the words. “I had thought they were gone forever. Peggy and I, we decimated them. All of them. Or so we thought.”

Bucky tilted his head. “Peggy?”

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “A friend. I expect she has long since passed.”

“You’re not talking about Peggy Carter, are you?”

The dragon’s head whipped up, his eyes wide. “You know her?”

“I know _of_ her.” Bucky let out a laugh. No way was this possible. Peggy Carter, famed knight of Shield, and a rumored dragon rider to boot. He had never held much stock in those stories, as the dragons alive today barely had any relations with humans except to steal their livestock when hungry. It seemed silly to think that they’d once been so friendly with humans that they’d allowed some to ride them. “Were you her dragon?”

Steve raised his chin, proud. “I was, yes.” He crawled over to a pile of canvases and rooted through them until he produced one that he showed to Bucky. There, in glorious, old-fashioned armor, stood a young Peggy Carter with a wicked smile gracing her features. 

“You painted that?” Bucky asked in awe.

“I did.” Steve smiled down at the picture. “She was my friend, many years ago. Before you were born, I imagine.”

“What happened? Why did you two separate?”

“We finished vanquishing our enemies, and she wanted a regular human life. After all the fighting, I granted her that bit of peace.”

“And you?”

“I went to hibernate. My kind had wreaked so much death and destruction that those of us still standing decided to return to our territories and never again get caught up in human conflicts.” 

Bucky knew well the horrors the dragons had unleashed on both sides of the war. The tales of burnt flesh and ruined homes had given him nightmares as a child.

They lapsed into silence, during which Bucky’s wound ached from his earlier movement. 

Steve seemed to detect his discomfort. “You should sleep. You need more time to recuperate.”

Bucky bit back a retort as tiredness settled over him. Steve was right. He braced his hand on the wall and started to stand, but Steve stopped him.

“Save your energy. I will carry you.”

Before Bucky could protest, Steve scooped him up in his arms as if he weighed no more than a feather. He deposited Bucky on the blanket in the main cavern. “Wait,” he said. He ducked down a passageway and returned with a wool covering this time. 

Steve draped it across him as Bucky lay back, letting his eyes sink closed. 

“There will be more food when you wake,” Steve said, and despite the thoughts whirring through his mind, those were the last words Bucky heard before drifting off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where'd all that backstory come from?? Heck if I know! My muse is awesome like that.
> 
> It'll be interesting to see where this story goes! Let me know if there's anything you're dying to see, and I will do my best to include it! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few days, Bucky’s strength returned in fits and starts. He slept a lot, and when awake he was bored to death. It helped that one day he stumbled upon a cavern filled to the brim with books older than he was. Bucky had always been interested in history, so getting the chance to read about the world before the war was fascinating to him. The pages detailed the many campaigns of brave knights and dragon riders, including Peggy Carter by name, and Steve by mention of the red, blue, and silver dragon she often rode. 

During Bucky’s convalescence, Steve mostly remained in human form, probably for Bucky’s sake, which he appreciated. Steve spent the long hours puttering around the cave tidying up, gathering firewood, painting, sorting through his artwork, and leaving for long stretches of time to return with food. He had a larder in a deeper, colder cavern, but he liked fresh meat, and once he seemed to realize that Bucky couldn’t live on a purely carnivorous diet, he branched out to purchase local fruits and vegetables with the money he made from selling his paintings. 

Although quiet at first, Steve proved to be an entertaining companion, with a multitude of stories. Most were corrections of tales Bucky had heard about Peggy Carter, but with Steve’s embellishments, they were brought to life in a whole new way. Soon, their evenings of storytelling became commonplace, and Bucky found himself frequently lulled to sleep by Steve’s voice. Although it embarrassed him, he looked forward to these times when the fire would light up Steve’s youthful yet simultaneously ancient features, and his deep timbre would wash over Bucky like gentle waves. 

Even back home, Bucky had never experienced such levels of calm and peacefulness. He felt safer than he ever had in his entire life, and that seemed crazy considering that Steve was a dragon and Bucky was in his den. Then again, Steve was a dragon, yes, but a kind and gentle one, who changed Bucky’s bandages and washed his clothes and made sure he was eating properly. In fact, Steve was more than a dragon; he was rapidly becoming a friend, and maybe even someday, a partner in their ceaseless fight against Hydra. After all, Steve would be a powerful ally, and one that Hydra would never see coming.

Bucky’s dreams reflected these fantasies. One night, about a week after discovering Steve’s past with Peggy Carter, Bucky dreamed he was on Steve’s back coursing through the sky, the wind in his hair and the sun on his face. They were so high up that the farmhouses and fields were the checkerboard of a game, and the people and animals were pieces small enough to fit in Bucky’s palm. He whooped and lifted his arms as Steve roared in triumph, spouting a small flame.  

Then Steve disappeared from out under him. Bucky dropped through the air, the shock of it forcing the breath from his lungs. He tried to scream, but the sound bunched in his throat. He thrashed, his arms flailing so hard that his left one ripped clean off and vanished. Blood gurgled in his mouth, a bitter, iron taste that he wanted to spit but couldn’t. Pain surged through him, lighting up every cell in his body, and as Bucky fought to breathe hands clamped over him and he couldn’t move. He struggled, but already darkness was falling, and he knew if he let himself go, that merciless black would swallow him up and--

Bucky’s eyes flew open. On the new furs Steve had added to his bed, and under the cow hide blanket, Bucky sweated and panted. The nightmare faded as his vision focused on the stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Right. The cave. Steve.

But Steve wasn’t there. As Bucky stood on trembling limbs, he explored the different caverns, seeking a friendly face. Instead, silence and emptiness greeted him. Perhaps Steve had gone to the market again, although Bucky swore Steve had just returned from such a trip not even a day ago. Where could he have gone?

Bucky returned to his bed and propped open a book on his lap. He sank into the text and was so absorbed that he jumped when, sometime later, a giant thud echoed from outside and the entire cave shook. Dust rained from the ceiling, and Bucky’s panic spiked--an earthquake? What could he do if the cave collapsed and trapped him inside? 

Trying to control his breathing, Bucky staggered upright and toward the entrance of the cave. When he saw the cause of the noise, though, he drew up to a halt, his mouth falling open.

Steve in dragon form sagged against the earth on his stomach, his tongue lolling from his mouth and his great sides heaving with breath. His wings lay like withered leaves against his back, and his eyes were closed.

But more than that, he had half of a wooden lance sticking out of his right shoulder. Dark blood drizzled from the wound. 

“What the hell is going on?” Bucky demanded, and Steve finally blinked open an eye.

 _It’s...nothing_. Even Steve’s mental voice seemed to strain with the effort.

“Nothing, my ass. Someone attacked you!” Bucky cursed and stomped forward. Several arrows poked out from around scales closer to Steve's belly. “What were you doing?” His mind whirred through the possibilities, but nothing made sense. There weren’t many villages around here, especially not harmful ones. The only dangers were the encampments closer to Hydra’s fortress in the south...

No. Steve wouldn’t. He couldn’t be _that_  stupid, could he?

“Tell me you didn’t.”

Steve’s eye closed.

“You didn’t attack Hydra all by yourself, did you?”

Steve said nothing, which spoke volumes.

“Are you an _idiot_?” Bucky yelled. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

 _I didn’t think Hydra was_ that _strong now, not after what Peggy and I did. And I didn’t realize they’d still carry dragon-killing weapons._

Bucky wanted to tear his hair out in frustration. People didn’t just attack Hydra on a whim! Look at what nearly happened to his garrison and what _had_ happened to him--and they’d been planning the assault for weeks, if not months. Not to mention Steve’s intel being decades out of date.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Bucky finally growled out. He prodded at one of the arrows embedded in Steve’s scales, and Steve moaned. “And I would’ve helped you, if you’d just _waited_.”

_You’ve suffered enough at their hands._

“Congratulations, now you’ve suffered, too. Is that what you wanted?” Bucky tweaked one of the arrows to make a point, and Steve finally opened his eyes all the way. Bucky met his gaze. “Will you survive?”

Steve paused, seeming to assess himself. Then, he nodded slowly, but not without wincing. _The lance is the worst of it. You can just pull the arrows free along with the damaged scales. They will regrow._

Bucky followed his instructions, though it was difficult with just one hand and his own still-healing injury. Steve, of course, noticed Bucky’s pain and told him to leave it be, but Bucky grit his teeth. “I help you, you help me. Now we’re even.”

One of the arrows had burrowed deep into Steve’s flesh, and Bucky had to plant his feet against Steve’s tough hide to yank it out. Steve hissed as it pulled free. A stronger trickle of blood oozed from the lance wound. 

“How do I get that out?” Bucky asked, eyeing the weapon. It was thick like a tree trunk, though carefully smoothed so it would be difficult to get a good grip. 

_Can you grab it?_

“Not from down here.”

_Then climb up._

Carefully, Bucky clambered up onto Steve’s back. The loss of his arm still meant it was hard to balance, so he nearly fell. He managed to right himself enough to wince. The lance wound was deep and inflamed. Steve must’ve been swooping low to allow for a lance to impale him at this angle. 

Bucky braced himself, then reached for the lance. He tugged hard, but it didn’t budge. Steve’s tail lashed out and his whole body tensed, coiled and shaking. 

“Maybe if I twist it?” Bucky asked aloud.

_Just...do it. Please hurry._

With an apology on his lips, Bucky used the weight of his whole body to twist the lance. It was awkward with one arm--he had to curl his arm around the wood, and brace it against his chest for leverage. Finally, though, he managed to lift it a few inches. Ignoring Steve’s low groans, he repeated the process again and again until he was able to yank it straight up. The wood was slimy with Steve’s blood, and the good-sized hole left in Steve’s body was enough for Bucky’s stomach to heave. Still, he mentally cheered when he was able to toss the offending weapon away. It rolled down Steve’s back and thumped to the ground.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

 _My magic...is already activating_.

Bucky could see that. The wound was glowing slightly, a blueish tinge, and the edges were slowly sealing up. “What else can I do?”

But Steve didn’t speak. He rested his head on the earth and huffed out great, gulping breaths. 

Bucky scrambled off him, careful of Steve’s wings, which he now saw were torn in spots--probably from other dragon-tipped arrows. 

In front of the dragon, Bucky hesitated to pat Steve’s muzzle, admiring the whiskers along his lips. “You’re an idiot. I could’ve told you this was a bad idea.”

Steve blew out a breath, and hot air washed over Bucky. _My only regret is not getting involved sooner. Hydra is stronger than ever._

Bucky just shook his head. Lucky him to have stumbled upon the world's friendliest yet most stubborn dragon. 


	4. Chapter 4

It took the better part of an hour for Bucky to cajole Steve back into the cave. 

Without the strength to lift an entire dragon, all Bucky could do was try to convince him it was a smart idea. Steve, blinking and sleepy, clearly wanted to remain right where he was so he could let his magic help him recover from his injuries. Bucky hated to make him move, but the idea of a wounded dragon just lying out in the open felt far too risky, especially now that Hydra knew he existed.

When Bucky at last succeeded and he checked that all of Steve was curled up safely within the cave’s walls, he went to coax the fire back to life. Steve’s rumbling snores soon echoed out as heat suffused the cavern. A long moment passed as Bucky studied Steve’s face and beyond. Soft, blue light glowed from where he’d been hurt--his magic healing himself--and Bucky hesitated but couldn’t prevent himself from stroking Steve’s flank with his palm and following the outline of the wings tucked to his side. Steve’s scales were alternately smooth and rough in spots, and each one held a brilliant sheen that glittered in the flickering firelight. 

Perhaps this was invasive and Bucky should stop, but he got lost in the sensation of exploring Steve’s dragon form. Steve’s wings were his favorite part. The fleshy membranes stretching between the bones felt so thin and lightweight, and yet Bucky knew how powerful they had to be to allow Steve to lift himself into the air.

A remarkable mechanism, wings. Bucky remembered being obsessed with them as a child, especially when it came to flight. That’s why the dragon rider stories had stuck with him, and why, whenever he had downtime before the war, he’d venture into the woods at the edge of town and spend hours bird-watching. 

If only that Bucky could see him now. 

_I can feel that, you know._

Bucky, who had just been running his hand along a spike on Steve’s tail, jumped nearly a foot in the air. “Oh shit. Sorry.” He yanked his arm back as if a snake had bit him, and his face flamed. 

 _It’s alright._ Steve sounded amused. He craned his neck to look at Bucky, then yawned, relaxed.

Bucky whistled. “It’s only been a few hours. Don’t tell me you’re already healed?”

 _Mostly._  Steve’s voice sounded smug. _The arrow wounds are gone. Only the lance wound remains._ He stretched and hissed slightly in confirmation of this assessment. 

“Damn. Wish I could heal that fast.”

_I never did understand why humans took so long to get better. That’s why I used to lend Peggy some of my magic, when we were a team._

“You can do that?”

_Of course. My magic is a part of me, and I can choose how I wish to use it._

Bucky's stomach clenched at the thought that Steve could've healed him but chose not to. Then again, he reminded himself that they were relative strangers. He couldn't blame Steve for not wanting to give that part of himself away to someone he'd just met.

Steve stood up and shuddered all over. He might’ve been a small dragon, but next to Bucky, he appeared huge, looming in the space of the cave. 

“How’re your wings?” Bucky asked, eyeing them in concern. 

Steve carefully unfolded one of them, and Bucky saw that the tears from earlier had vanished. 

_I’m well enough to fly if need be, but I shouldn’t have to for a while yet. You have a sufficient amount of food, yes?_

Bucky sauntered over to the fire and sat beside it. He shook his head. “And here I was planning to go hunting to feed _you_ during your recovery.”

 _Oh really? Hunting, for me?_ Steve scooted around so he could properly curl up around the fire, his head resting on the ground near Bucky’s boots. Bucky was suddenly walled in by a breathing red, blue, and silver body, which made him even warmer.  

“Well, yeah. You’ve helped me. It’d be the least I could do, even though I’d probably only manage to catch a rabbit or something.” He smirked and brushed a strand of hair from his face. “Though I guess that’s probably about as much protein for you as a single walnut for me.”

A strange chuffing sound filled the air, and with a start, Bucky realized that Steve was laughing. 

_Even still, I would’ve appreciated your efforts. In any case, I am grateful you persuaded me to return to the cave. It would not have been good to remain outside._

“That’s what I figured, now that you’ve announced yourself to Hydra and all.”

Steve’s nostrils flared. _I don’t regret attacking them._

“I know, I know, but you could’ve been smarter about the whole thing.” 

Steve harrumphed, but said nothing. 

Bucky poked the fire with a stick, and sparks spit at him. A thought surfaced in his mind, but he couldn’t tell how Steve would react. Still, he had to try. He started slowly, “You know, I wasn’t lying before, about helping you fight Hydra.”

Steve’s great eyes stared up at him, unblinking. 

“I mean, I’ve got a lot of feelings about what they did to me, and what they’ve done to others.” Bucky waved his stump pointedly before clenching his jaw. “I want them gone. Forever.”

_So what are you proposing?_

And here’s where it got tricky. Bucky hesitated. “I don’t really know how to...”

_Say it._

Bucky met Steve’s piercing gaze. “I could be your new dragon rider, and we could take down Hydra as a team. Finish the job you started with Peggy.”

Any hope for a positive response faded at the mention of her name. Steve had seemed receptive, but the instant he heard ‘Peggy,’ he closed off. 

_No. I will not replace the memories I have with her._

“Oh come on, that was decades ago! Stop being stuck in the past. What about now? We could make new memories _now_ , and eradicate Hydra once and for all.”

Steve growled out a warning, and his tail swished. _I cannot dishonor her by taking you as a rider._

Bucky’s heart panged, but he ignored it in favor of clenching his fist. “Wow, gee, thanks. Maybe I should just get out of your hair then.” He pushed to his feet and aimed toward the side caverns. “I’ll pack a bag and be gone within the hour.”

 _No! Bucky, stop._ Steve sounded pained, but it was directed internally as he huffed. _That’s not what I meant._

Bucky paused. “Then what did you mean, huh? I know I’m not that impressive. A one-armed, half-dead prisoner of war.” He scoffed as a cold stone sank into his gut. Right. He was pathetic, weak. What had been thinking? There was no way he’d be of any use to an amazing creature like Steve. 

Steve blocked his path, his face hanging before Bucky’s so they were only a few feet apart. 

_Please don’t misunderstand me. My words came out wrong._

Bucky’s shoulders slumped. “It’s fine. I am what I am, and you hardly know me anyways.”

_Stop it! There’s nothing wrong with you. I just... What Peggy and I had was special, and I’ve hated being without her._

“Say no more. I get it, okay?” 

Steve bared his teeth. _You’re not listening! What I’m trying to say is that I’ve been alone for a long time, and I didn’t think... I’ve immensely enjoyed your company even in just these past few days. You...you’re the reason I felt brave enough to attack Hydra, to reemerge in the world of today. You’re a good man, Bucky. Please stay._

Bucky froze in place at Steve’s words. He swallowed a hard lump in his throat. “You sure about that?”

_Absolutely. And I will...consider being your dragon, and you my rider. I just need more time. Please._

Bucky blew out a long breath and sagged to the ground. “Okay.” He nodded, his mind faraway. “Yeah. I can wait.”

They resumed their places by the fire. Silence descended, broken only by their gentle breathing and the crackling of the flames. 

Then Steve spoke.  _Will you tell me another of your stories?_

Bucky snorted and shot Steve a look. “Why, so you can keep interrupting to correct me?”

Steve grinned at him--or at least the approximation of a grin in dragon form. _Obviously_. 

“Fine. Let’s see.” He tapped his chin. “Hmm. Which one haven’t you heard yet, I wonder...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments so far! They've definitely been encouraging me to keep writing this AU. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky swore and dropped the sword. 

His arm trembled and the almost-healed wound in his gut panged for a second, but he bent to retrieve the blade and continue his exercises. With the weapon in hand, he lunged and parried and practiced his footwork, but before long, the sword grew too heavy and it dropped from his grip. 

“Damn it,” Bucky said again. He panted, and his breaths echoed back to him. This smaller section of the cave held the remainder of Steve’s and most likely Peggy’s armory. An assortment of surprisingly pristine weapons from all over the world dangled from hooks on the walls, and the ground here was soft sand - perfect for sparring. 

The trouble, though, was that Bucky had learned to fight on a longsword, and that kind of weapon required two hands to yield. 

Bucky gritted his teeth. He just needed to build up the strength in his remaining arm, and then he’d be fine. 

“James, what are you doing?”

Bucky flinched. The sword in his hand once again clattered to the ground as Steve swept into the chamber in human form. 

Steve cringed, sheepish. “I’m sorry if I startled you.” 

“It’s nothing.” Bucky paused to catch his breath, then scrutinized Steve from head to toe. “You sure you’re well enough to transform?”

“Your point is moot, but yes, I’ve healed completely.”

“Oh. Good.” Bucky had missed this version of Steve. He was incredible as a dragon, of course, but there was something endearing about an all-powerful creature concealed in such a small, skinny package. In this form, Steve actually stood a whole head shorter than Bucky. 

Steve picked up Bucky’s sword as if it weighed the same as a feather, and Bucky snorted. 

A small, skinny package that could easily hand him his ass. 

Steve hefted the blade up to eye level, where he studied it for a moment. “This sword isn’t right for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“It won’t be balanced right. You need something that weighs less, and is more suited for single-handed use.”

Bucky bristled. “That’s the kind of sword I trained on. That’s what I know.”

Steve leveled him with a look. “But your circumstances have changed, and you need to adjust accordingly.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and ignored the burning behind his eyes. Hydra needed to be stopped _now_ , and he needed to prove to Steve that he could help. They didn’t have time for Bucky to learn a whole new weapon. 

But Steve stowed his prior sword and pulled down another, this one shorter, but with a thicker blade. 

“This is called a gladius. I believe it will be of more use to you.” He held it pommel-out to Bucky, who accepted the weapon. “Give it a try.”

Bucky swallowed harsh words and instead backed up to execute a few jabs. The gladius was lighter, yes, but the weight felt oddly distributed, and Bucky stumbled.

“No, no, you’re gripping it wrong.” 

Suddenly, Steve was pressed against Bucky from behind, his lean body warm and tinged with the scent of smoke and masculine spice. 

Bucky flushed, and his heartbeat sped up as Steve’s hand covered his, and carefully pried up his fingers to alter his grip.

“You’ve got to hold it farther downward. See how that feels?”

Bucky couldn’t speak and could barely move, but he managed a tight nod. Parts of his body were stirring, and Bucky furiously tamped down the curl of arousal. Now was the not the time, and Steve couldn’t be the person. He was a _dragon_. There was no way he was a) into men, b) into humans, and c) into Bucky. 

Not that Bucky wanted him to be.

“And your feet aren’t right.” Steve smoothed a hand down Bucky’s calf so he could help him close the gap between his legs. Bucky bit back a whimper. “There. A shorter stance works best with this blade. How’s that?”

Steve finally stepped away, and a part of Bucky immediately missed his warmth. Annoyed, he comforted himself by acknowledging that he was probably starved for any kind of touch due to his months of isolation and torture. His body’s reactions had nothing to do with Steve. 

“James?”

Bucky shook himself out of his daze and, following Steve’s instructions, stabbed with the blade. His mouth dropped open in surprise. “That’s much better. Wow. How do you know this stuff?”

“I used to practice with Peggy. She was quite the swordsman. She knew several different styles and a variety of weapons.”

“Will you practice with me?”

Steve nodded. “When you’re ready.”

“Which is when?”

“There’s no rush.”

“Isn’t there?” Bucky shoved the gladius into the ground, where the tip dug a groove in the sand. 

Steve put his hands on his hips. “No. Hydra will not be going away anytime soon, and I refuse to go into battle unprepared.”

Bucky scoffed. “Right. Unlike last time.”

Steve glared at him, but then relented with a sigh. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Too late for that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I get it. I’ll keep training.”

“And in the meantime, you should contact your family, let them know you’re safe.”

The faces of his parents and sisters flashed through his mind, not to mention those of the men in his garrison. Guilt twinged Bucky’s gut. He should’ve considered them sooner. Of course they’d be worried about him. They probably thought he was long dead by this point. 

And then a thought occurred to him. 

“What do you propose?” Bucky asked. “I can’t exactly send them a message. They’ll never believe that I’m staying with a dragon.”

A wrinkle appeared between Steve’s brows. “I suppose...we could travel to your village.”

Bucky groaned imagining wagon trains, poor road conditions, and their heavy supplies. “That’ll take forever, and I won’t be able to train much along the way.” 

“I’m not talking about walking or going on horseback. I’m saying that we could fly.”

Bucky’s thoughts ground to a halt. He stared at Steve while Steve fiddled with his tunic. “You’d really let me ride on your back?”

Steve wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I...yes. It’s the quickest option, which makes the most sense. You need time to train, and your family deserves to know you’re alright.” He shrugged. “It’s logical to fly.”

“But...” Bucky swayed toward Steve. Were his dreams of flying really going to come true so soon?

“It’d have to be a short detour, though. No longer than a day or two.”

“You could really get us to Brookline that fast?” His hometown was nearly half a continent away.

Steve lifted his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. Like a bird, he seemed to puff up imaginary feathers. “Of course I can. I may be small, but I’m quick.” 

Bucky grinned as excited anticipation flooded him. He’d get to go _home_ and see his family and friends. He’d dreamed of their reunion when he was in Hydra’s clutches. And better yet - he’d get to introduce everyone to Steve! “And maybe we could see your family, too, if they’re on the way.” But when Steve seemed to deflate at that, Bucky backtracked with a wince. “Or not.”

“My mother was the only family I had, and she died a long time ago. It’s just me, which is not unusual,” Steve hastened to add. He sighed. “We dragons are solitary creatures.” Even though Steve said it with a blank expression, Bucky sensed sorrow in his tone. 

Oh, who was Steve kidding? He didn’t _like_  to be alone. Hell, that was one reason he’d kept Bucky around, wasn’t it?

Which begged the question Bucky suddenly blurted out, “What about mates?” He immediately wanted to kick himself, especially when Steve seemed to shrink. Still, he _did_  want to know. It was said that dragons mated for life. Had Steve ever had a partner?

“I do not have a mate.” Steve’s smile was bitter.

“What? Why not?”

Steve snorted, and a thin trail of smoke drifted from his nose. “It might not make sense to you, but...I am tiny for my species. That is not desirable in a mate. And I have never sought children, which is why any potential suitors have stayed away.”

“Well that’s just ridiculous,” Bucky said. He let go of the gladius so he could clap Steve on the shoulder. “I think you’re awesome even if you don’t want children. And if you’re up for it, you can join my family. We Barnes are a crazy bunch though, I’m just warning you. I’ve got an uncle who only goes fishing during the full moon, because he thinks the moon lulls them out.”

Steve’s mouth twitched.

“And my littlest sister collects slugs. She even has names for all of them.”

That made Steve chuckle, and Bucky smirked. 

“I would like to meet them, if only to make you appear less crazy.” A wicked glint shone in his eyes. 

“Sounds good.” Bucky licked his lips. “Now what do I need to know about flying?”

“Well, my biggest piece of advice? Don’t fall off.”

Bucky shoved him. “Ha ha. Very funny. But seriously, what should I know?”

Steve just threw back his head and laughed, and Bucky considered that a victory in and of itself.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky awoke the night before going home to his own gasping breaths and wet face, tears still streaking down. He couldn’t recall the details of his nightmare, but he was trembling, and he felt alone and scared and haunted by phantom pain. 

He’d believed so clearly that he would die there, on that awful table where Hydra had cut off his arm. Everyday, he was sure their torture would finally kill him. 

 _Hush. You are alright. You are safe_.

The fire had burned down to embers, so the cave was dark and cold...except for Bucky’s back, where solid warmth pressed against him. 

“S-Steve?” Bucky asked. His voice was hoarse, and he figured he’d been screaming. 

_I’m here._

And he was. In dragon form, Steve lay curled around him, his great belly to Bucky’s back, and tail to Bucky’s front. He’d somehow softened the spikes and ridges, because they were gentle as they urged Bucky into the comfort of Steve’s chest.

“Was I... Sorry if I woke you,” Bucky said. His shuddering breaths filled the cavern. 

_Do not apologize. I will keep you safe._

And though a part of Bucky wanted to protest, he was too exhausted to say anything more. Instead, he sagged into Steve’s embrace and fell into a dreamless slumber. 

* * *

The next morning, Bucky was sure he’d dreamed the whole episode, except that he kept catching Steve looking at him with concern in his now-human eyes. 

But he opted to ignore Steve’s worry and focus on the positives of the day. After all, Bucky was going to _fly_ , and he was going to see his family again, after months at war and more upon his capture. There was no need to linger on the past when he had a bright future ahead of him. 

After breakfast, Steve hefted out a huge saddle and instructed Bucky on how to put it on him. 

“You’ll tighten the straps here, and hold on here.” Steve pointed to each buckle, clasp, and harness. 

The saddle was beautifully made, if old-fashioned in its flaring design; saddles today were much smaller and lighter. Then again, Bucky had only ever seen the ones made for horses, and the style was usually sleek and simple. Steve’s saddle was ostentatious by comparison, with etching and fringe and artful images burned directly into the leather. It was also more molded, with special grooves for Bucky’s calves. 

“And this goes between the first ridges on your back?” Bucky asked, once Steve concluded his explanation.

“Yes. It should still fit as long as you put it on right.”

Bucky snorted. “I think I can manage.”

“It’s heavy.”

“That won’t make it harder for you to fly?”

Steve paused. “Well, I haven’t worn it for a long time, so it’ll take some adjustment. But I should be fine. We’ll get to your village by sundown at the latest.”

Bucky whistled, still unable to believe anything in the world could travel so fast.

“Since you’re new to this, I also recommend ropes.” Steve shoved a handful at Bucky, who staggered back. “You’ll want to make sure you don’t fall off, so attach them well.”

“Right.” A thrill of nervousness zinged through Bucky. He smiled wanly. “One problem though? I’m not so good at tying knots anymore.” He’d discovered that the hard way, and even now, had to fight the urge to sulk.

Steve frowned. “I think I’ve got an idea.”

His idea turned into an intricate web of ropes and saddle attachments that would keep Bucky from plummeting to his death. The best part? Bucky could tighten or loosen it all with just one hand. 

In the end, it took the better part of an hour for them to get ready for their journey. Most of their preparation involved gathering supplies, and then adjusting the saddle for Bucky’s weight. He thought he might be heavier than Peggy, but Steve assured him he was actually lighter, since Peggy often went into battle in full armor. 

Then, it was a matter of securing the saddle-bags and configuring Bucky’s rope system. 

Finally, outside in the sunshine, Bucky sat upon Steve the dragon. Per Steve’s suggestions, he now wore a full leather uniform to prevent wind burn, as well as ridiculous glass goggles that would allow him to see. 

Bucky clasped the nearest spike and tried to get comfortable. It was odd to be tilted slightly backward, since the saddle was positioned more on Steve’s neck than back, since he needed room to spread his wings without Bucky’s legs dangling in the way.

The ropes were snug but not tight as Bucky shifted. He was just about to remark that this was easy - like being on horseback - when Steve stretched up to his full height, head lifted.

“Oh shit!” Bucky said, glad for the ropes and grooved saddle that prevented him from sliding off. At least he’d attached them correctly.

 _Are you alright?_  Steve sounded amused. 

“Y-yeah,” Bucky said loudly. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Steve’s movements were far jerkier than a horse’s, even as he simply walked forward. His powerful muscles bunched and loosened as he hefted each clawed foot, and when he raised his wings, they appeared as looming shadows in Bucky’s periphery. 

_Are you ready to fly?_

By the gods, they weren’t even off the ground yet. How was anyone supposed to get used to this?

Bucky swallowed his fear and nodded. At the realization that Steve couldn’t see him, he choked out, “Yeah. Up and at ’em.”

 _Lean forward as much as you can_ , Steve said, and Bucky had just enough time to obey before Steve’s massive wings beat the air. Deafening wind whorled around Bucky, and he was glad Steve had helped him tie back his hair. Still, a few strands escaped to tickle his face, and Bucky focused on spitting them out, his gaze on the scales of Steve’s neck.

He was so distracted by his hair that he didn’t register they were airborne until a rapid change of pressure made his stomach swoop and ears pop. Bucky tilted his head to the side, and his mouth dropped open. 

They were higher than the forest. The trees were the size of his finger, and Steve’s cave could house squirrels or chipmunks, with the rest of the rock looking like an over-sized nest of brown.

“Oh my god,” Bucky said, his pulse racing. This was...incredible. This was actually happening.

_You still alive up there?_

“I...I think so.”

Steve’s wings swept in broad strokes, keeping them hovering in place. He was probably giving Bucky time to adjust, which Bucky appreciated, since it felt like his heart wanted to leap from his chest.

Slowly, Bucky peeled himself up into a seated position. He fought the urge to flatten himself back down, as if it would prevent him from falling, but the ropes held. After a few seconds of not dying, terror gave way to excitement. 

Bucky broke out into a wide grin. “This is amazing!”

Steve let out a mighty roar, which would’ve sent Bucky careening if he hadn’t been strapped in place. 

“Are you trying to kill me?” Bucky yelled down at Steve. He gained enough courage to kick his side. 

Steve just laughed. Bucky’s kick probably felt like a tiny nudge considering the strength of his dragonhide.

 _Can we get going?_ Steve asked. (Whined, Bucky thought.) _We won’t make it by sundown if we don’t leave now._

“Alright, alright. Go ahead--” Bucky’s words whipped away from him as Steve angled his wings and put on a burst of speed. The colors of the world far below blurred, and Bucky’s skin stretched to accommodate the force of air rushing at him.

Never in Bucky’s life had he felt so free and exhilarated as he did now. He pumped his fist and whooped into the clouds as Steve belched a gust of flame below him. 

And even though the initial thrill wore off after a few hours, Bucky couldn’t imagine landing. He wanted to live in the sky, with its infinite hues of blue, and magnificent columns of clouds. The world looked a whole lot different up here, and sounded quite different, too. They passed flocks of squawking birds that quickly veered out of the way, but that was the only noise apart from the whistle of the wind.

Perhaps due to his rude awakening the night before, or maybe because he felt safe with Steve, Bucky found himself drifting off. If he adjusted the ropes a little, he could lay against Steve’s neck without too much discomfort, his legs still held tight in the saddle. 

_We have some hours to go. You may sleep._

“You sure you can fly straight through?” Bucky called.   

_Fear not - I’ve flown longer for much greater distances. I will wake you when we arrive near Brookline._

“You don’t need me to point it out to you?” 

Steve had previously mentioned that he had a strong sense of direction as a dragon, and knew the region well even after hibernating long enough for the land to change.

_Rest, James. You will be home soon enough._

And so Bucky did.

He continued flying in his dreams, where he pictured his family waving up at him from their home, welcoming him back with open arms and bright smiles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll meet some Barneses next chapter! 
> 
> And I definitely took inspiration from How to Tame Your Dragon for these flying scenes! :)


	7. Chapter 7

As the day wore on, the awe of flying wore out. Bucky was stiff and sore from hours in the saddle, and Steve’s energy appeared to be flagging as well. It seemed to take him more effort to flap his wings, and he replied to Bucky’s questions in monosyllabic responses. 

So when the familiar mountain range finally appeared on the horizon along with the setting sun, Bucky knew what they should do. 

Even as jittery excitement flooded through him at the thought that he’d be going home and seeing his family again, they could wait another night. 

“We should land soon,” he called over the wind. “We can walk the rest of the way tomorrow, after we’ve slept.” _And stretched_  he mentally added. He feared that his legs would be forever bowed thanks to this ride. Not to mention the gnawing in his stomach. He’d been too afraid to attempt snacks mid-air, even though he and Steve had carefully packed some in reach should Bucky get peckish. 

 _We’re almost there_ , Steve said.

“And I’m exhausted,” Bucky said. “Plus it’s almost nighttime. Let’s just get some sleep and we can meet them first thing tomorrow.”

_Are you sure? You’ve been away from them for so long already._

“Exactly. What’s one more night?”

Steve hesitated to respond, and at last, he gusted out a loud sigh. _If you’re sure_. 

But Bucky detected a sense of gratitude in his voice. He rolled his eyes. Steve had so proudly declared his ability to fly long distances without a problem, even though he was clearly out of practice. His head and tail drooped low, and he labored for breath.

Bucky’s ears popped as Steve descended, banking toward a clearing in the forest. A pond sparkled, and if Bucky had more energy, he would’ve laughed in giddiness at the familiar sight of his childhood adventures. He and his friends had built a fort near this pond, and even a few rafts so they could float out in the reeds and hunt for frogs. 

Sooner than Bucky expected, the world rushed back up at him. After hours of just wind, the sounds hit him first - leaves rustling, birds chirping, water flowing. 

And then Steve touched down on the earth with a loud thud, and Bucky flailed to release himself from the ropes. Once freed, he slid off Steve’s back and landed on his butt on the ground, his shaky legs unable to support his weight. 

 _You alright?_  Steve asked. He swung his head around to look at Bucky. Foam frothed at his lips like what Bucky had seen on horses that were pushed past their limits. 

“Damn it, Steve, you should’ve told me you needed to take a break.”

Steve’s tail swished, and he pointedly raised his head. _I’m fine. What are you talking about?_

Bucky shook out his body, all the while grumbling about pig-headed dragons and their willingness to suffer rather than admit to any form of weakness. 

After feeling had returned to Bucky’s extremities, he helped remove the saddle and ropes so that Steve could transform into his human self. The change happened in the blink of an eye, and as a tiny, skinny man, Steve’s exhaustion seemed even more evident. He wobbled on his feet, and kept blinking as if dazed. Bucky wanted to scream at his stubbornness, but what was the point? 

Together, they set up a makeshift camp. Neither of them felt inclined to build a fire, so they munched on the already-prepared foodstuffs they’d packed. 

Since Bucky had napped in the air, he wasn’t as tired as Steve, who curled up on the ground almost immediately after polishing off an entire sac of beef jerky.

Bucky glanced at him, reflected in the dying light of the sun. He looked so small, so vulnerable, which warred against his true nature. Bucky knew how strong he was, and it was awful to think that other dragons didn’t appreciate the inner Steve, the one beyond his outside appearance. Bucky may not have met any other dragons, but he couldn’t imagine any of them were better than Steve, either in heart or strength. 

And though he knew it wasn’t warranted, protectiveness flared within Bucky as he sat there, watching over Steve’s sleeping form. It was just like last night, when Steve the dragon had offered Bucky sanctuary after his nightmare. 

Bucky was just returning the favor, and couldn’t help smiling at the thought of his family meeting Steve and getting to see just how incredible he was. 

The woods outside Brookline were fairly safe, so Bucky didn’t worry about keeping watch. He eventually dozed off, and in the morning, a jab prodded him awake. 

He rolled over with a grunt to meet the bright face of human Steve wearing--

“What the hell?” Bucky sat up.

Steve was draped in a patchy, brown poncho that was way too big for him. It was so enormous, it looked like Steve was drowning in it, or that the poncho was actually digesting him. 

That wasn’t the worst part though - a lumpy hat drooped on his head, with triangular flaps that fell well past his ears. 

“What are you wearing?” Bucky asked. 

Steve glanced down at his outfit. “What? This is what I wear when I visit humans. It disguises my true nature.”

Bucky stifled a laugh as the hat slid even further down his forehead. When Steve had gotten food for him recently, had he been wearing this atrocious clothing? “Steve...”

Steve frowned, and Bucky couldn’t contain his laughter anymore.

“What’s so funny?” Steve demanded. 

“You look... _ridiculous_ ,” Bucky choked out, laughing so hard he had trouble breathing. He could just picture the look on his father’s face when he introduced Steve the wimpy hobo as his savior. 

Steve continued to pout, which didn’t help Bucky’s situation. His stomach muscles ached, but at least when he managed to control himself, Steve appeared more amused than annoyed. 

“I didn’t realize this was out of fashion,” Steve said, sounding so serious that Bucky nearly burst out laughing all over again.

“Steve...I don’t think that was _ever_ in fashion. Ever.”

Steve said nothing to that. Bucky stood to dust himself off and stretch out the kinks. His body was still sore from yesterday’s flight, but some light walking would help with that. 

Happiness washed through Bucky, and a smile stretched his lips. 

Home. 

“Here, you should eat something before we set out.” Steve offered a bag of fruit and more beef jerky. 

As Bucky munched on the food, he noticed the lack of other items in the immediate area. “Uh, where’s your saddle?”

“I hid it, for safe-keeping. I can get it on the way back.” Steve’s voice took on an odd tone, and a warning bell rang in Bucky’s head, but he couldn’t figure out why.

Steve shook his head, then gave Bucky a somewhat strained smile. Flying must’ve really taken its toll on him.

“Ready to go see your family?” Steve asked. 

Bucky finished his hasty breakfast and nodded, setting aside all misgivings. 

“More than ready,” he said. They stowed their belongings in saddlebags, and each heaved one over a shoulder before they left, aimed for Brookline - Bucky with an extra skip in his step. 

He couldn’t wait another minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I lied - no Barneses this chapter, but DEFINITELY next chapter! This scene came out longer than expected! I hope you like the image of Steve wearing a droopy hat to cover his dragon ears, haha!


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as the town gate loomed in the distance, Bucky had to fight the urge to run, hell, even _skip_. Still, he couldn’t keep the wide grin from splitting his face, and he beamed at human Steve walking beside him. 

Steve had been strangely sullen since they woke up, but Bucky’s good humor seemed to affect him as he smiled back. 

Bucky nudged him with his shoulder. “Is it okay if I tell my family what you are?”

Steve blinked at him. “You want me to meet them?”

“Well, duh.”

“Oh.” Steve’s smile grew shy. “I suppose that would be alright, as long as you don’t think the truth will frighten them.”

“You saved me, Steve,” Bucky said, pausing to face him. “They’re not gonna be afraid of you. I promise.” Hell, he could already picture his ma tutting at Steve’s skinny frame and insisting he eat a third and fourth portion of food. 

A wooden wall of tree trunks enclosed Brookline in a semi-circle, as its back was to the mountain range. Water flowed down the mountain and through the town, where it eventually passed under grates into a stream that lined the road to the entrance. 

The last time Bucky had been here, the liquid had been partially frozen as the autumn nights grew longer and colder. But thanks to spring rains, the water had swelled and now rushed by in a healthy force that reminded Bucky of nights filled with river song and chirping crickets. 

Home. 

But one thing was new, and that was the metal portcullis that blocked the main gate. The harsh security measure seemed jarring against so much wood, and Bucky froze at the sight of it. 

A guard tower had been erected, too, and the ramparts were wider, more fortified and patrolled regularly, as he could see a handful of men marching back and forth along the walls. 

Hydra’s reach may not have extended this far, but it seemed the people of Brookline wanted to be prepared. 

Bucky’s joy from earlier drained at the reality of the world changing while he was away. Then a thought stopped him cold. 

What if something _had_ happened to his family? What if this wouldn’t be the happy reunion he had imagined?

But no, Brookline appeared unscathed. He had to believe they were safe. 

“James?” Steve touched his flesh arm. “Are you alright?”

Bucky coughed to clear his suddenly tight throat. “I’m fine. Just got nervous for a second, I guess. That portcullis wasn’t here when I left.”

“I see. Well, it is a smart thing to have.”

“Yeah.”

They continued on, with Bucky’s steps dragging more than before. But he perked up when one of the guardsmen yelled down at him and Steve in a familiar voice.

“Who goes there?”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a grin. “Parker, is that you?” Seriously, Brookline was letting weeny kids like Peter Parker man the gate?

Peter was still young - barely seventeen - and the metal helmet on his head didn’t help his appearance any, as it kept sliding down over his forehead. 

“Who...?” Peter leaned over the ramparts to squint down the fifteen feet between them. Then he rocked back, his mouth open. “Bucky Barnes? Holy shit!”

Bucky waved. “I’m back, almost in one piece.”

“Your garrison stopped here about a month ago. They said you were dead.”

Bucky’s grin faltered. Damn. He’d missed his men by only a few weeks. At least he could send them a message to let them know he’d survived.

“Hydra captured me, but I managed to escape. And my friend Steve here, he helped me.”

Peter eyed them both, then shook his head. A smile lit up his face. “Your family will be real happy to see you.”

“And I’ll be real happy to see them, too, if you can open the gate.”

“Right!” Peter’s voice squeaked. “Yes. Hold on.” He disappeared and shouts echoed out. A few minutes later came a low mechanical grown, and the portcullis lifted. Then the wood gate opened from the inside. 

Peter was there to greet them, and he quickly pulled Bucky into a hug. 

Bucky winced as they parted. “Hell, kid, are you wearing _metal armor_  under that shirt? Should’ve warned me.” He rubbed his smarting chest.

Peter blushed. “Sorry. It’s just chainmail. And yeah. I got promoted to guard duty.”

“Congrats. Didn’t think you’d make it past basic training.”

Peter scowled, but then pity crossed his expression as he gazed at the space where Bucky’s left arm should’ve been. “Shit.”

Bucky said nothing.

Then Peter clapped him on the back. “I’m glad you made it home.”

Bucky choked up at that. “Me, too. Wasn’t sure I would for a while there, but...” He glanced at Steve, who was smiling proudly. Bucky blew out a shaky breath. “Well I’m gonna go find my family now if you don’t mind.”

“’Course not! Is it okay if I let people know you’re here?”

“Go ahead.”

Brookline wasn’t that big, and everybody knew everybody, so Bucky braced himself for the eventual mob. He hoped that Peter being on duty would delay the inevitable a little bit. He had to be ready for not only congratulations, but even worse pity at his missing arm. 

Not to mention what his own family would think.

But he bade farewell to Peter, and as the gate and portcullis closed behind them, Bucky led Steve down the well-worn path to his home. 

As it was mid-morning, most people were out in the fields, so Bucky only caught a few curious looks, and none from townsfolk he knew well. He didn’t stop to talk, and instead, as he and Steve wound their way between buildings, he prattled on about the town. 

Being so remote, the inhabitants of Brookline were self-sufficient. They had a cooper, a smith, a grocer, a butcher, an apothecary, a library, a schoolhouse, a hospital, a military training center... Everything one would need. When asked where they got their food, Bucky explained to Steve that each family owned a plot for a garden, and they all shared a communal field located in a hidden valley between the mountains. 

“Only we know the way to get there,” Bucky said. “We grow what we can. We even have some rice paddies.”

“Sounds lovely,” Steve said. “What about farm animals?”

“Oh, we’ve got plenty of those. And the valley’s split into fields for grazing and pastures, too. You name it, we got it. I think every family owns goats and sheep and chickens. Some of them have dogs and cats, and we’ve all got horses that we keep in our own stables.”

Steve nodded, a genuine smile on his face. “It’s very peaceful here.”

“Yeah. Hopefully we can keep Hydra away.” Bucky regretted the words as soon as he’d spoken, but it was too late to retract them as Steve’s face darkened. 

And then a familiar homestead appeared as they rounded a bend, and Bucky couldn’t say much of anything with how his heart had leapt into his throat. 

Stonewalls bordered the front and backyard of a sagging but well-loved two-story home, and Bucky recognized his sisters bent over weeding in the garden, or drawing water from the nearby well, or sweeping the steps. 

Or in Rebecca’s case, reclining in the shade of the apple tree, engrossed in a book with her broom propped up against the tree trunk. At seventeen, she and Bucky had been the closest growing up, and his chest physically ached just seeing her there, in her usual spot. 

Silently, Bucky approached her without anyone else noticing, as they were too busy with their chores. He pointedly cleared his throat. 

Rebecca yelped as she dropped her book to her lap and whirled on him in alarm. Her eyes widened and the cry died on her lips as she surged to her feet with a joyous, “BUCKY!”

And then they were embracing, and Bucky’s face was wet, and his little sisters were screaming and swarming him in a group hug, and there was Ma, her expression awestruck as she stared from the front porch.

Gracie and Anne and Sophia all spoke at once, chattering and demanding what had happened to his arm, but their ma shushed them. The girls parted to let her through, and then, as Bucky had imagined, his ma wrapped her arms around him. He breathed in the scent of flour and lavender, and would’ve burst into tears if he hadn’t already been crying.

Time ceased to exist in that moment, and Bucky felt no shame in clinging to his mother. He’d been so sure he would never see her or his sisters again. A new wave of tears overcame him when his ma pulled back and clutched the stump of his left arm with a stifled sob of her own. Then she hugged him again.

When they at last parted, it was a whirlwind to get Bucky inside, send out Gracie to collect their father from the fields, and have Bucky introduce his mysterious guest. 

Steve had hung back to give them privacy, but now smiled at the group and shook hands with utmost politeness, even to little Sophia, who was only eight years old but seemed so much bigger than when Bucky had left.  

At the table, his ma set out plates and fresh bread and dill butter, which Bucky heartily dug into - in Hydra’s clutches, he’d woken up salivating with the thought of this heavenly loaf. The only dampener was that he had trouble buttering the bread with only one hand. Luckily, Rebecca swooped in to help when she saw him struggling, though they exchanged meaningful glances. Bucky hated the pity swirling in her eyes even as he conveyed gratitude.

This was going to be rough. But he pushed that thought aside.

Next to him, Steve nibbled at his own slice, though Bucky could tell he was not a fan of the taste when he wrinkled his nose, checked if anyone was looking, and then coveted the rest away in a napkin. He was lucky the Barnes family was focused on Bucky, who’d only caught the stealth act in his periphery.

Bucky snorted. Freaking carnivorous dragons couldn’t appreciate the best bread and butter in the world. 

His younger sisters kept up a running commentary of what he had missed while they waited for Gracie and their father to return, though he could tell Rebecca and his ma were anxious to hear about what had happened to him. 

Bucky had thought a lot about what to say, and decided for a condensed version of the truth. First the war and his garrison, getting captured, Hydra hurting him enough to take his arm, escaping, finding Steve and, perhaps if there was time, discussing what Steve was and how Bucky wanted to rejoin the fight.

They didn’t need to know the rest of the awful details. 

Bucky jumped when the door burst open to admit his pa and Gracie, both red-faced and breathing hard, as if they’d run all the way here. He’d never seen his father sprint in his life, and the fact that he’d done so now made Bucky start crying all over again. 

He and his pa embraced for a long time, until finally, they all sat around the dining room table and everyone quieted, waiting. Even Sophia stopped fidgeting long enough to fix Bucky with a solemn look.

So Bucky opened his mouth and began.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still debating which characters will appear where in this universe, though I'm happy I thought of Peter as the kid guarding the gate! :P


	9. Chapter 9

“...and then we got here,” Bucky said, concluding his tale. Well, concluding it so far as not mentioning that Steve was a dragon. Which was sort of funny, since his family probably thought that Steve was a weird hermit for living alone in a cave. 

Around the table, his parents appeared thoughtful and his sisters were fidgeting - all except for Sophia, who was locked in a staring contest with Steve across from her. Perhaps she sensed that he wasn’t entirely human; his pupils were indeed a bit strange if you looked at them for too long. Bucky knew that from experience. 

“So you arrived last night...” his pa started, his brows furrowed. 

Bucky nodded. 

“After you _left_  early yesterday morning?”

“Yeah.”

His pa’s scowl deepened. “But that’s not possible.”

Then it was Bucky’s turn to frown. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s concerned how you got here so fast,” Steve said, and Bucky’s mouth formed an ‘O.’ 

“Right. So I guess now’s a good a time as any, huh?” He met Steve’s gaze, silently asking if he still wanted to reveal his true nature.

Steve made it easy for him and leaned forward. “Bucky got here so quickly because he flew on my back. I’m a dragon.”

The sudden silence was jarring, and then Anne burst out laughing. Gracie immediately smacked a hand over her sister’s mouth, her face red. Anne complained and lashed out at Gracie while his ma and pa blinked, and Sophia smiled, triumphant.

“I knew it,” Sophia said. 

“No way,” Anne said, shoving Gracie away from her. “You’re lying. How could you know?”

“His eyes are like Muffin’s,” Sophia said.

“Who’s Muffins?” Bucky asked. 

His pa finally animated enough to roll his eyes. “He’s a stray tomcat that’s been hanging around the barn.”

“Ma and Pa won’t let him in the house,” Sophia said with a pout.

“Because he’s got fleas,” their ma said, patient. 

“If you’re really a dragon...” Rebecca interrupted in a loud voice. Everyone quieted and turned to face her as she glared at Steve. “Then prove it.”

Steve smiled in embarrassment, but removed his hat to show off his pointy ears and the red and silver scales behind them.

Sophia scraped back her chair and reached out a hand. “Can I touch them?”

“Soph,” Bucky said despairingly, but Steve had already granted permission. 

Sophia traced her fingers over the scales, then the tips of his ears. “Wow. They’re real.”

“Well, yes,” Steve said in obvious amusement. “They’re mine.”

“You’re really a dragon?” Anne asked. 

“That I am.”

“And your name’s _Steve_?” Gracie demanded. 

“That’s what I call him,” Bucky said. “He has a dragon name, but I just heard ‘Steve’ when he told me.”

“What’s your dragon name?” Anne asked as she crowded against Steve.

“And I thought dragons left after the war. Where have you been?” Gracie asked, joining Anne. Together with Sophia, they pressed into him. Steve tensed, uncomfortable.

“Now, now, girls, let’s give Steve some room to breathe,” his ma said, and Bucky’s sisters stepped back a little. 

His pa fixed Steve with a wondering look. “A dragon?”

Steve blushed, shrinking slightly under his appraisal. “Yes.”

“And you helped my son. Why?”

“Because he needed help and I wanted to give it to him.”

“Bless you,” his ma said. Her eyes were watery. “How ever can we repay you?”

“Please, it’s nothing,” Steve said. “Your hospitality has been repayment enough.”

“Are you positive I can’t get you anything? Surely you’ll stay for dinner. I’ll put on a roast. It should be thawed enough by now.”

“You don’t have to go through such trouble,” Steve started, but Bucky’s ma shushed him with a cutting gesture.

“You saved Bucky’s life, and you brought him home. At least let me feed you. You look like skin and bones, even for a dragon!” 

Bucky snorted. He’d guessed correctly at his mother’s reaction.

“Can we see your dragon form?” Anne asked. 

“Yeah, can we? Please?” Sophia piped up. “Is it small like you?”

When Steve flinched, Bucky grabbed his youngest sister in a loose choke hold. 

“No, lemme go!” Sophia said, squirming. It was harder to keep her still with only one arm, but Bucky managed it. He just wished he had another hand to mess up her hair like he used to. 

“Why do you have to be so rude, huh?” he demanded. “Come on. Ma taught you better manners than that.”

Sophia giggled and thrashed until Bucky let her go.

“Now go apologize.”

“Sorry,” she said to Steve, but she didn’t sound particularly contrite. 

“That’s alright.” Steve stood. “Is there somewhere we can go where I won’t be visible from the road? I don’t mind showing you my true form.”

“The barn!” Anne said. “Behind the barn.” 

“Come on,” Gracie said. She and Anne shoved Steve out of the back door, Sophia and Rebecca hot on their tail. 

Suddenly alone with his parents, Bucky smiled, awkward. “So...”

“A dragon,” his pa said, shaking his head. “I just can’t believe it.”

“I know.” Bucky glanced down at the table. “I thought he would kill me at first. Turned out he’s one of the kindest, most generous beings I’ve ever met.”

“He has a good soul,” his ma said as she put an arm across his shoulders. “And he must’ve seen the same in you.”

A lump wedged in Bucky’s throat. He’d fought in a war. He’d _killed_  people. Could he really be that good?

Then again, he could make up for what he’d done by stopping the violence and bloodshed from spreading any farther. As Steve’s rider, they could take down Hydra once and for all.

But Bucky wouldn’t bring that up now, not when he’d just gotten home. He could picture the devastation on his ma’s face at hearing the news that he hadn’t returned to stay. Perhaps he’d tell them all tomorrow, after more home-cooked meals. 

Shouts came from outside, and he and his parents rushed out to the barn. 

Behind it, Steve had transformed, beautiful in the sunlight with his red, blue, and silver colors gleaming. He was indeed hidden by the building, and he’d lowered his head to gently puff breath against Sophia’s face as she admired his jaws and teeth. His ma clutched at her heart beside him, but Bucky grabbed her hand. 

“It’s okay. I promise.” He squeezed. 

Like this, it was easy to tell that the Barnes girls were sisters. Aside from Sophia’s wide grin, Anne, Gracie, and Rebecca wore matching expressions of awe, all of them speechless. His ma and pa appeared the same, and when Bucky caught Steve glancing in his direction, he smirked.

“Having fun?” Bucky asked. 

_They are taking this better than I thought they would._

“Did you just talk in our _heads_?” Rebecca breathed. 

Bucky laughed at her incredulous expression. “I didn’t know you could mentally talk to more than one person at a time.”

 _I am made of magic. I can do many things_.

“Now you’re just showing off.” But Bucky didn’t stop smiling.

_Show off? I can do that._

Steve lifted his head and blew out a small fireball that made Bucky’s family exclaim in surprise. Then Steve beat his wings to stir up wind, blowing all of their hair around. Sophia loved it, but Anne, Gracie, and Rebecca huddled together, seemingly intimidated by Steve’s display of power. 

Bucky felt his pa’s gaze, and turned to meet his eyes. 

“You sure know how to pick ‘em, son.”

And as Steve roared before re-assuming his human form, expression sheepish, Bucky truly marveled at what a friend he’d made. 


	10. Chapter 10

Bucky’s family sped into action over the rest of the day. Once the girls got over the disappointment of not getting to ride on Steve’s back (since Bucky’s ma put her foot down with a firm, ‘No!’), they rushed around to complete their chores before helping prepare their impromptu feast. Bucky aided where he could, though he was constantly interrupted by well-wishing neighbors who showed up to exclaim at his miraculous survival. Bucky endured their shock and pity with a strained smile. He’d expected this treatment since running into Peter at the gate, but by the time the seventh visitor stopped by, he swore his facial muscles had permanently rearranged themselves into a grimace.

At least Steve was spared the drama. While Bucky _was_ happy to catch up with the townsfolk, he didn’t feel the need to mention anything about Steve except that they were traveling companions. No one would believe that Steve had essentially saved his life, and a few people were just nosey enough that if Bucky provided more details, they’d weasel out the whole story, and then all of Brookline would know what Steve was.    

For some reason, Bucky was compelled to keep Steve’s true nature a secret, a Barnes family secret. And thankfully, this desire went unspoken, as none of his sisters - not even Sophia - let on that Steve was more than he seemed. Bucky just wished the residents of Brookline could be less harsh in their judgment of his small, skinny form.

For his part, Steve played along in assisting them with chores. In the barn, out of sight, he proved his dragon strength by flinging haybales from the loft at a record speed, which made Bucky’s pa laughingly ask if Steve wanted to stick around to help with the harvest. But, as Bucky overheard, Steve politely refused, saying that he had other matters to attend to.

Matters like Hydra, which he hadn’t yet brought up to his family.

Being home was satisfying, but it would never feel completely safe until Hydra’s brand of treachery was wiped off the map for good. In his few spare moments of downtime, Bucky wondered if Steve had any plans for how they might accomplish this goal. Obviously, Bucky needed more training, especially if he was to learn to fight from Steve’s back as his rider. The problem was, he couldn’t utilize the bulky rope system _and_ be expected to fight at the same time. He needed a way to regain balance, but how could he do that with just one arm?

The answer came with Ole Madame Stone. She was a hardy, fierce woman. As a child, he’d been afraid of her even though she had a son a few years older than him. She lived a few houses away, alone since her husband had passed and her son had moved to the city. It was terribly kind of her to visit now, especially because she was one of the few who didn’t eye Bucky’s stump with pity or scorn. Instead, she gave it an assessing look before she nodded.

“You ever thought about getting a prosthesis?”

Bucky paused where he was stacking wood on the porch. The job had been easy before the war, but took twice as long now since he couldn’t carry as much. “A what?”

“A replacement arm. Well, not a full replacement, of course, but one that will make life a little easier for you. My Vic got one down in New City. Found a blacksmith who makes incredible pieces.” She crooked a finger, and Bucky leaned in closer. “Rumor has it that the blacksmith isn’t a blacksmith at all, but a dragon masquerading in human form. That’s why he can craft what he does, and keep his forge lit at higher temperatures.”

Bucky gawked at her. Another dragon? Could it be?

And then he nearly dropped the remaining pile of firewood. An arm. He could get his arm back.

He’d met a few men and women in his time who’d had prostheses, but those had been made of wood, or crude metal. If the rumors were true, and this blacksmith _was_ a dragon, then he could get something special, something important, something powerful. A weapon against Hydra.

“Mark my words, but I think you should see him,” Madame Stone said, tapping her nose. “Goes by the name of Stark from what I hear. Seek him out when you go.” She winked.

She’d always been keen, which was yet another reason he’d initially avoided her. Before he left, he would have to make sure his mom checked up on her every once in a while. If this worked out, he would be indebted to her.

Bucky bowed his head. “Thanks for the tip, ma’am. I…I really appreciate it.”

Madame Stone smiled, then excused herself. As she headed back down the lane, butterflies fluttered in Bucky’s stomach. A swarm of possibilities flew through his mind.

Perhaps he could send this Stark fellow a missive to inquire of his services, and know to expect Bucky and Steve soon. New City couldn’t be more than a few hour’s flight, if that. A mere pit-stop on the way south, and while the blacksmith crafted his arm, Bucky could continue to train with Steve. That way, by the time he had the prosthesis fitted, he’d be ready to fight and win.

But he couldn’t let the excitement overcome him. Stark might be too busy, or Bucky’s arm too expensive. Steve may not want to waste any more time before attacking Hydra, though Bucky didn’t quite believe that. He’d wanted Bucky to be properly prepared, after all.

If only Bucky could discuss this new plan with Steve. But with the feast under way, they had no time alone.  

At dinnertime, the spread of food was magnificent, more so than any celebration Bucky had previously experienced. There was not one, not two, but three types of roast meat, five vegetable sides, homemade bread and more dill butter, and plenty of mead. Enough to feed even the most boisterous Barnes clan, plus a dragon.

In typical style, Bucky’s family was chatty and loud as they dug in to the food, heartily expressing compliments and discussing recent events. Bucky, exhausted from his earlier visitors, kept quiet and just enjoyed the good company. Steve appeared to feel similarly, as he didn’t speak much, though he followed the thread of conversation with appropriate nods.

But something was off. Whenever they exchanged glances, Bucky sensed sorrow from the dragon. And maybe he was reading into it too much, but Steve’s shoulders seemed more slumped than usual, and his smiles weren’t as genuine - not like what Bucky had witnessed before. Steve’s eyes remained wide and focused, too, as if memorizing every detail of the meal and the people partaking in it.

Foreboding struck Bucky, but he ignored it. After all, this kind of environment was the direct opposite of the life Steve was used to. The poor guy was probably just overwhelmed, especially when the topic switched to dragons, and Steve accidentally revealed his relations to Peggy Carter. That set off all of Bucky’s sisters, and they demanded to know everything. Soon, they were recounting famous stories while they cleared the dinnerware and set out pies, sweet cream, and coffee.

The evening wore on, and Bucky’s ma finally declared that they should go to bed when all Sophia could do was yawn. Bucky was grateful for the chance to rest, but then came the ordeal of where to sleep. His room had been commandeered by his sisters, along with his mattress, and he didn’t want to displace them. Of course, his mother wouldn’t hear about him sleeping on the floor, even though he argued that that was what he preferred now. The final compromise was a nest of blankets on the floor of the living room, near the hearth.

Meanwhile, Steve opted for the barn and wouldn’t accept any other answer. Bucky regarded the conversation from his makeshift bed, which he’d offered to share, though Steve declined.

“If there’s room, I’d like to sleep in my dragon form if that’s at all possible,” Steve said, eyeing Bucky’s parents. The girls were finally tucked away for the night, but his parents had lingered in the main room with their guest.

“You won’t scare the animals?” Bucky’s pa asked.

Steve shook his head. “They have nothing to fear. I am very full from your sumptuous meal.” He patted his slightly bulging stomach. Alone, Steve had probably consumed well more than half of the total meat his ma had provided. In his human form, Bucky couldn’t tell where he found the space to store so much food.

“Very well. The barn is yours,” Bucky’s pa said at last. He turned to Bucky’s ma, and they both bid Steve and Bucky a good night before disappearing into the master bedroom.

Bucky propped up on his elbows. “Hey Steve.” He spoke in a hushed voice as Steve turned to the door.

Steve paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“We should talk about—” A massive yawn cut off his words.

Steve faced him with a soft smile. “You should rest. It’s been a long day, and there’s much food to digest.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“I thought I was.”

Bucky grinned. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“I very much did. Your family is lovely.” Steve’s smile faltered. “I’m glad you were able to return home.”

“Thanks to you.”

Steve ducked his head. “Yes, well… It’s certainly been the most excitement I’ve had in a long time.”

“That’s the Barnes family for you.”

Steve hesitated. “Your parents and sister are wonderful, yes, but you are…” He cleared his throat. “I am happy to have helped you.” He approached Bucky, then knelt beside him. He clasped Bucky’s hand. “It was an honor, truly.”

Bucky frowned at him. That foreboding was back, but he felt so sleepy, he couldn’t pin the thought down. “I’m glad I met you, too.” Bucky’s words were slurred, and his eyelids drooped.

The last thing Bucky remembered before drifting off was the press of warm lips to his forehead, and the breathed word, _Goodbye_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lateness of this chapter! Life has been very hectic... Moving out for the first time, starting a new job, figuring out my expenses, etc. etc. It's been crazy with all the adulting!
> 
> Thank you for being patient with this story! The next update will be sooner, especially since I left off on an awful cliffhanger! :P
> 
> Also, many thanks to my friend who gave me the idea for what to do with Tony in this universe! 
> 
> Also also, bonus points for fans who recognize the name Victor Stone! I completely made up the details for him and his mother in this world, but I thought it was a nice homage :)


	11. Chapter 11

Bucky couldn’t say what startled him awake, but as soon as consciousness returned, he sat bolt upright.

Steve’s name hovered on his lips, but of course Steve was gone.

Bucky couldn’t tell how long he’d been asleep—hopefully no more than a few minutes—but Steve still had a good head start. He’d had to have left the village through the gate, then spent time recovering the saddle in the woods. If he got held up by Peter or another guard, maybe Bucky still had a chance to catch him. This was all assuming, of course, that he hadn’t taken on his dragon form and just flown away. Bucky hoped against hope that Steve wanted to maintain his secrecy. After all, even a shadow at night could reveal a dragon.

Bucky shoved to his feet and grabbed a lantern. He threw on a jacket, then raced outside, determined to drag that ridiculous dragon back to him kicking and screaming if he had to. His chest stung with rage and betrayal, but he channeled the ache into speed, power. He practically flew down the road, startling the night patrolman but not stopping to explain himself. The lantern swayed precariously, the light inside flickering.

_Please let someone have stopped Steve from leaving. Please, please, please…_

But at the gate, there were only guards, and Bucky’s heart sank.

“Did you let anyone through?” he demanded, breathless, as he drew up in front of the trio.

One of the guards recognized him, thankfully, though Bucky couldn’t recall his name.

The man held out a hand. “Whoa there. Where’s the fire? It’s not yet dawn.”

“Did someone pass through these gates recently?”

The man glanced at his companions. “Yes, a young man came through here not an hour ago. Said it was urgent.”

Relief bloomed, though it was short-lived. Steve had indeed departed as a human, but he could accomplish much—and get far—in an hour’s time, especially if he resumed his dragon form once outside of Brookline.

The guard smirked. “I assume it’s urgent with you, too?”

Bucky growled. “Let me out. I have to get him back.”

The guards tittered, but they signaled up to a companion in the gatehouse, who pulled the various levers to raise the portcullis. The seconds seemed infinite as Bucky fought the urge to rip out his hair.

How could Steve do this to him? Bucky had made it clear he wanted to fight, so why did Steve leave him behind? Did he really think Bucky was so weak, that he wouldn’t be _useful_ against an enemy like Hydra? Was he still planning on fighting alone?

“God damn idiot better not get himself killed,” Bucky muttered under his breath. He slipped through the gate as soon as the opening was wide enough. One of the guards shouted after him, but he didn’t slow. Not now.

Bucky sped down the road, his gaze darting between the ground and the sky. At least the moon was out, shedding dim light on the forest. But even with the extra illumination, he could still be too late.

The pond glowed in the distance near the clearing where they’d landed. Bucky pumped his legs faster. Sweat beaded on his skin, and his muscles burned. He could barely breathe, but his only thought was _Steve_.

Finally, he arrived where they’d slept such a short time ago.

And there was nothing. No movement, and no sound except for Bucky’s gulping breaths.

No. This couldn’t be happening.

Bucky sank to his knees. After everything, _this_ was how Steve wanted to end it? That wasn’t fair. How could he be so selfish?

Hot tears coursed down Bucky’s cheeks. Damn it. Not like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Bucky cursed Steve as he wiped at the tears.

And then the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He glanced up, and his mouth fell open at the huge shadow that loomed above the canopy. The outline of a dragon was framed against the night sky, long wings flapping, tail swishing, and head raised.

“Steve?” Bucky called as he surged upright.  

The dragon didn’t respond, and instead lifted higher into the air before circling down toward the clearing. In this angle of moonlight, Bucky’s heart fell.

It wasn’t Steve. The coloring was all wrong. This new dragon appeared black, with threads of another color—perhaps red, though it was hard for Bucky to make out.

This dragon also had a rider astride its back.

As the pair landed a short distance away from Bucky, the resulting wind from the dragon’s wings blew Bucky’s hair into his mouth. He spit it out and wondered, vaguely, if he should be frightened at this new arrival. But it seemed all he could feel was the chill of disappointment and grief. He thought he’d had something with Steve, something special. He supposed it’d all been in his head.

The dragon rider dismounted and strode toward Bucky, who raised his lantern. The figure resolved into the shape of a man—blond and stocky, once he stepped into the aura of light. Behind him sauntered a woman with gleaming red hair and pointy ears—the dragon in human form. She’d transformed so fast Bucky had missed it between one blink and the next.

“Where is he?” the woman asked. Her voice was low, sultry.

The man beside her gestured with his fingers, and the woman cocked her head at him before nodding.

Bucky frowned at the exchange, confused. “What?”

“Where is he?” she repeated. She made a sound that Bucky faintly recognized as Steve’s dragon name.

“Steve?” he said. This dragon and her rider were looking for Steve?

“Is that what you call him?” The woman adopted a smirk. She turned the expression on her rider, who laughed. From her facial expressions, it was almost like she was communicating with her rider telepathically, but that was crazy…or was it?

“Why are you looking for him?” Bucky demanded, suddenly defensive on Steve’s behalf. Just who were these strangers?

The woman’s smile vanished. She faced Bucky with her hands on her hips. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out. Let’s just say I’ve got some words for him, and since I caught his scent a few hundred miles ago, I thought I might as well drop in and say hi.” She bared her teeth. “Especially since he went to sleep without telling me.”

“What’s your name, rider?” the man asked, though his words came out strange. It took Bucky a moment, but then he recognized that the man must be Deaf. Bucky had encountered an entire village of Deaf inhabitants and their relatives with his garrison once, and they’d used the same kind of language with their hands, and spoken with an odd accent.

At length, Bucky registered the man’s question, and barked out a laugh. “Rider? Me? I don’t think so.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “His scent’s all over you. I’m the best tracker there is, so don’t bother trying to lie.”

“I’m not lying! I rode on Steve’s back once, but then he left.” _He abandoned me_ , he wanted to say, but a lump in his throat prevented the words from emerging.

The dragon scowled at him, silent, and probably conveying Bucky’s words to her rider.

The man hummed. “Well, that’s something.” He stuck out a hand. “I’m Clint, by the way. And this is Tasha.” When she elbowed him, he added, “Natasha, that is.”

Clint and Natasha, looking for Steve. Bucky didn’t get a sense that they were dangerous…at least not yet.

But did it matter? An idea leapt to his mind, and new excitement thrummed through him.

“I’m Bucky,” he said. “And I’ll tell you anything you wanna know as long as you help me find him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot - Clint and Natasha! Yay for dragon friends! :D


	12. Chapter 12

After explaining what he knew of Steve, Bucky was prepared to chase the idiot down with Natasha and Clint, but thoughts of his family forced him to pause.

He couldn’t leave without an explanation; he hadn’t even had time to write a note. He’d only just got back, and his family would have no idea what had happened to him.

Again.

That wasn’t fair, not when he had the power to let them know his plans.

Thankfully, Natasha and Clint were willing to wait…at least for as long as it took for Bucky to race back through the gate and to his home, where he could gather some belongings for yet another mysterious journey into the unknown.

Only his mother was awake, and she didn’t appear surprised when he burst into main room, out of breath.

“Steve,” he panted, “I have to go after Steve. He just…he left.” More words tumbled out of him, promises and confessions about what he wanted to do with Steve—take down Hydra as his rider. “I’m going to get an arm,” he said at one point. Which wasn’t a lie, but also wasn’t a truth either. He didn’t know this mysterious ‘Stark’ person, and if he would even deign to make Bucky a prosthetic. Still, he had to try.

And even if he never made it into combat, the thought of having a working arm again was…nice. He knew it wouldn’t be as good as the original, but it’d be _something_ —something he’d never believed he would have again. Thank goodness for Madame Stone and her infinite wisdom.

When silence descended, he realized he’d been rambling to his mother for a good while. In the pre-dawn light, her face was dark, and Bucky hoped against hope that she would understand. If she tried to convince him to stay—which was exactly what Steve had wanted—he didn’t think he’d be able to resist.

“That boy saved your life,” she said at last. “And he brought you home to _live_. I can’t be the one to decide what you do with your own life. Just like I couldn’t tell you not to fight, even though I didn’t—and still don’t—want you to.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “You’re just so set on throwing yourself into danger. Will you never give yourself a chance to rest? Especially after what those horrible people did to you.”

“Aw, Ma.” Bucky tugged his mother into a tight embrace. Even after all these years, he still felt strange towering over her. Whenever he hugged her, he expected to be a boy again, with small arms that couldn’t meet behind her back, and his face tucked against her chest. Now, he only had the one arm. He’d never be able to encircle her again.

They stood that way for a few minutes, rocking together, until Bucky pulled away. “I gotta go. Can you tell everyone for me? Where I’m going, and that I’ll be coming home soon with Steve?”

His ma blinked at him. “You’ll return here, and not to Steve’s cave?”

“I ain’t living in a cave. And I think Steve would be happy here, with other people.” As he kept talking, the images formed in his mind. He hadn’t realized he saw a future for himself in Brookline. Truth was, he hadn’t before, but with Steve… “Steve could really help us with defense, with building and farming. I mean, he looks small, but he’s strong, and he’s smart, and he’s kind. He tells great stories and—”

“Then go to him,” his ma interrupted, planting warm hands on his shoulders. Her smile was gentle, and full of an emotion Bucky couldn’t quite discern. It seemed both proud and also knowing…but knowing what?

“Bring that lonely boy home,” she finished.

“I will.” He would damn well try.

Over an hour had passed by the time he returned to Natasha and Clint outside the town’s walls. When Bucky realized the hour, he’d run, half-expecting them to have left him behind.

But no, they were still there. Natasha was pacing as a human, though Bucky could imagine her in dragon form, tail flicking with impatience. By contrast, her rider was in the pond, practically naked and floating on his back without a care in the world. Then again, Natasha appeared to be the one who knew Steve personally and thus wanted to see him; since Steve had been hibernating, he probably didn’t know Clint at all, unless Clint was older than he seemed. Bucky had heard rumors of dragon magic lengthening the aging process of their human riders, so maybe Clint did know Steve.

“Finally!” Natasha said when she caught side of Bucky hurrying toward them, a pack slung over his shoulder. His mother had hastily thrown it together, complete with food for the trip.  

“So how are we doing this?” Bucky asked as he adjusted the bundle. It occurred to him, suddenly, that he had no weapons on him, save for a hunting knife. If his new companions wanted to eliminate him, he’d have nothing with which to defend himself.  

But he had a good feeling about these two, if his gut instincts could be trusted. Plus, he didn’t have any better options for catching Steve, especially since Natasha seemed able to track him by scent.

“We leave now, and find…what did you call him? Steve. Yes,” Natasha said.

“Will I be riding…?” Bucky started, unsure.

Natasha shot him an unimpressed look. “Are you asking if I am strong enough to carry two measly men on my back?”

“…no?”

She snorted. “Good. And I know you think you’re not his rider, but I know the scent. Dragons don’t let just anyone ride on their backs.”

“You’re letting me, and you don’t know me.”

“I know Steve. He may be too trusting for my taste, but he’s no fool.”

“You sure about that? He attacked Hydra by himself.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s because he’s always been an idiot when it comes to himself.”

“How do you know him?”

But Bucky’s question went unanswered when Clint joined them, dripping onto the dirt and wearing nothing but a thin cloth over his privates.

Natasha glared at him, and Bucky got a sense they were having a telepathic conversation.

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint finally said. He retrieved a pile of clothes from the pond’s edge, then began tugging them on.

“Will you need another saddle?” Bucky asked. He glanced between Natasha and Clint as she appeared to relay his words.

Clint grinned. “Saddle? I don’t use a saddle. You’ll just have to get cozy with me.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“For how long?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask. He directed his words to Natasha, who hid a smile.

“Not too long if I fly fast and we don’t run into trouble.”

“Which way did he go?”

She tipped back her head and sniffed the air. “He went southeast, and thankfully I don’t think he’s traveling fast.” She leveled Bucky a smirk. “I would guess he didn’t want to leave.”

“How can you tell?”

Natasha didn’t respond, and instead huffed at her rider. Even if Bucky couldn’t hear her words, he guessed she was telling him to hurry up.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Clint finished with his pants. “Alright. So where we off to?”

“Toward New City.” She spoke clearly to Clint, who seemed able to read her lips.

“Nice.”

“That’s where Stark is,” Bucky blurted.

Natasha stared at him. “You know Stark?”

“I’ve heard of him. He makes prosthetics, right?” Bucky wiggled his stump.

“Oh, he’ll totally make you a cool arm,” Clint said. He scratched his head. “He’s a good guy, most of the time.”

“Really?” Bucky couldn’t contain a smile. Could he really get Steve _and_ a replacement arm at the same time?

“Don’t get too excited,” Natasha said, and didn’t elaborate as she transformed. She was sleeker than Steve, and appeared deadlier with taller spikes and sharper claws. She was indeed black, and appeared like a shadow in the early morning light. The only other indicator of her presence was her second color—a deep, blood red, which was only on her belly in what seemed to Bucky the shape of a spider.

Natasha lowered down so Clint could clamber up onto her back. He reached a hand down to help Bucky, who awkwardly situated himself behind Clint. They were wedged tightly between two of her spikes.

 _Hang on_ , she said, and Bucky had just enough time to clutch Clint before Natasha shot into the air. Unlike with Steve, Bucky had no rope supports, and felt the loss of his arm keenly as he would’ve scrambled to hold on. Thankfully, Clint seemed to sense his distress as he reached back with a belt that clinched them together.

Bucky patted his shoulder in gratitude, and Clint twisted to give him a thumb’s up.

And so, Bucky settled into the rhythm of Natasha’s flight, somehow different from Steve’s in how she banked and maneuvered through the air.

He just prayed he wouldn’t throw up. 


	13. Chapter 13

Somehow, Bucky survived flying on Natasha’s back. Not only that, but he got so used to it after a few hours that he began to space out, almost bored by the landscape soaring beneath him.

It was only when tall, metallic structures glinted in the distance that he perked up. He had grown up surrounded by mountains and trees, so the fact that huge  _buildings_ could jut out of the forest like that made his eyes widen. He’d heard about New City, of course, but he’d never seen it. 

The sparkling spires increased in size the closer they got. Bucky wondered if Natasha would land on top of the highest one, since he’d overheard stories of some dragons preferring tall roosts, like cats surveying their prey from above. 

Thankfully, she started to angle downward, and his pounding heart calmed since she was probably preparing to land. He breathed a sigh of relief. 

Neither Natasha nor Clint spoke to him as they swooped toward a clearing. Which was why he nearly fell off when Natasha roared suddenly, a deafening sound that had him cringing and wanting to cover his ears - though he really  _would_  fall if he let go. 

Bucky would’ve angrily demanded a reason behind her bellow if steel-tipped arrows hadn’t whizzed by his head. He pressed against Clint’s back as Natasha barrel-rolled, her wings tight against her body as he fought off the nausea that rose in his stomach.

Bucky couldn’t see where the arrows originated, but he guessed the people of New City weren’t fond of dragons.

After another series of twists and turns, Natasha cried out again, and this time, Clint cried with her. 

She’d been hit. 

A dragon lance had punctured a hole in the membrane of her left wing, and green blood gushed from the gaping wound. 

They were losing altitude, and Bucky glanced down enough to make out a squadron of armored soldiers edging the clearing Natasha was aiming for. The shiny metal of their uniforms reflected the sunlight into Bucky’s eyes, and he blinked around spots.

The ground hurtled up to them at an alarming speed, and the soldiers below seemed to realize this as they retreated slightly to give Natasha space. 

She crash-landed with a heavy thud, jolting so violently that Bucky flew off her back and smacked into something hard - a tree trunk, most likely. 

Instant, engulfing pain whited out his vision, and when he was next conscious, the world had tilted onto its side. He coughed through a cloud of dust, and each breath was agony.

 _No._ His ribs. He must’ve broken some, or at least bruised them. His whole left side was a single, pulsing ache. What was with his left side being so carelessly treated?

Dimly, he could make out figures before him, shadows blotting out the light. Metal men and a woman with red hair, clutching her shoulder. They were talking, but their words were muted behind the ringing in Bucky’s ears.

He moaned as he tried to sit up, but an even sharper pain cut through him, and he lay back down, giving up. 

So much for finding Steve and getting a new arm. 

Bucky let his eyes fall closed. Steve would be mad that he got hurt again, but damn him, he wasn’t around anymore, so why should he care? He’d left, and for good reason. Bucky couldn’t seem to survive without him. What kind of rider would he have been?

With these negative thoughts, Bucky allowed himself to sink into oblivion, feeling - and knowing - that he was a failure.

* * *

 

“Wakey, wakey sleepyhead.”

Bucky’s eyelids fluttered as awareness returned. Where was he? Something soft cushioned his body, and the air stank of smoke, burning, and metal. When he tried to shift, he realized there was something constricting his abdomen. He opened his eyes and saw that he was lying on a bed, and had a bandage wrapped around his torso.

Oh. Right. For a second, he’d thought he was back in Steve’s cave, but this injury had come from something non-Hydra related.

“Natasha? Clint?” he said, his voice hoarse. He was in a dark, round room with stone-block walls. A small window let in a beam of light.

“They’re fine, though pissed to high hell. I think Nat would’ve bit off the healer’s hand if her human lover boy hadn’t intervened.”

Bucky focused on the dark-haired man sitting on a stool next to him. He was white, and had a sharply-shaven goatee and mustache. He wore black trousers and a black shirt, but what Bucky noticed the most were his ears.

They were pointed, and behind them shimmered red and gold scales. He was a dragon. 

“Howdy,” the man said with a wave. 

“Stark?” It had to be. Bucky couldn’t believe it. 

“Ding ding ding! You got it right on the first try. A gold star for you, kid. Now who the hell are you?”

“My name’s Bucky.”

“Uh-huh. But that’s not the real answer. I mean, you’re a rider. Cap has a new rider.”

Bucky frowned. “Cap?”

“Nat says you call him ‘Steve,’ which is  _amazing_ , by the way, though I guess I can’t talk since I chose the human name ‘Tony Stark’ but whatever. Me and Cap, we go way back. That’s what I call him.” He leaned in. “And folks round here have started calling me Ironman, which is like, an awesome name, right? Better than Cap or Captain, that’s for sure.”

“What?” Bucky’s head spun.

Stark tutted. “Never mind. Here am I, trying to hold a conversation with an invalid. Your ribs took a real beating, but they aren’t broken, lucky you. Should heal up nicely in a few days, especially with my elixir.” 

Bucky couldn’t seem to process his words. He could only sit and blink.

“Also, by the by, I noticed you seem to be missing a certain appendage. Let me guess: an accident in your youth.”

Bucky understood  _those_  words. He scowled, and a thread of fury ran through him. “No. Hydra took my arm when they were torturing me.”

“Hydra?” Stark’s humor fell off his face. Bucky would’ve considered it comical had Stark not stood up and begun to pace, muttering darkly to himself. Bucky finally caught a few words:

“So that’s why he took on a new rider. To take down Hydra. Always Hydra.”

“I’m not his rider!” Bucky interrupted, causing Stark to stop and stare at him. “He...he brought me home and then left. He doesn’t want...me.” The final word burned in his throat.

Stark gazed at him, expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed. “Well, I can’t pretend I’ve ever understood Cap’s mindset about these things, but kid, he chose you whether you realize it or not. Whether  _he_  realizes it or not.” He huffed. “No wonder Nat’s trying to track him down. Seriously, what is he doing?” 

Stark cleared his throat. “Anyways, Bucko, you hang out here for a little while. I’m gonna figure some things out. I’ll send my associate in with food, and when you’re feeling up for it, we’ll talk.”

Bucky had just settled back into the bed, exhausted by the conversation, but at Stark’s words, a new burst of energy made him sit up again. “Talk? About what?”

Stark gestured to the room. “Duh. I’m gonna make you an arm. And it’s going to be  _awesome_. I already have some ideas, and I think you’re gonna like them.”

Bucky’s mouth fell open, but Stark said nothing more and simply strode out of the room, still talking to himself.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I was working on some real fiction for Camp NaNoWriMo so this story slid to the wayside a bit. But now I'm back! I appreciate your patience, and as always, your kudos, comments, and bookmarks :)

The yelling had gone on for at least an hour.

From the guest bedroom of Stark’s home, all Bucky could hear were raised voices and indistinguishable words from a man with a deep tone, and a woman that sounded like Natasha. Every once in a while, a third voice would interject--Stark, most likely--but then the screaming would start all over again.

Bucky sat and tried to read a book Stark had given him, but he couldn’t concentrate. The noise didn’t help, but his mind was still spinning with the idea of a new arm. What would it look like, and how would it even work?

The sound of yelling increased for a moment, and he glanced up at the doorway where Clint had snuck inside. He closed the door, an amused expression on his face. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You mean out there?” Clint said, jerking his thumb. He grinned. “Let’s just say that no one gets the drop on Natasha. She’s  _pissed_. She never gets shot down like that.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, she’s the best. The only reason it happened is because her old pal Nick--Captain of the New City Guard--betrayed her. Or, well, some of his people did. By accident.” Clint put air quotes around the word ‘accident.’ “Apparently, there have been multiple sightings of dragons lately, and people are nervous.”

“But isn’t Stark a dragon?” Bucky thought the people of New City would be used to the sight by now.

“Yes, but he mostly stays in human form, and the city folk know him and what he looks like. These other dragons are new and reportedly not so nice, which is why the guards panicked.”

Bucky’s mouth went dry as a terrible thought occurred to him. “Could they be working for...Hydra?” He had to repeat himself when Clint couldn’t lip-read his words.

Clint’s next smile was grim. “Ah. Yeah. It seems that way, unfortunately.” His shoulders slumped, and for the first time since Bucky met him, he seemed far older than he appeared. How long had he been Natasha’s rider?

But that was a question for less dire circumstances. 

Bucky’s bedroom door flew open, this time admitting Stark, a seemingly fully-healed Natasha, and an intimidating man with an eye-patch who must be Nick.

Nick stuck out a hand, which Bucky shook. “Nice to meet you, soldier. I’m Nick Fury, Captain of the Guard. I hear you’re a new dragon rider.”

Bucky was about to protest, but Natasha talked over him. “He is. You sense it, too, right? Steve chose him.” She elbowed Stark, who nodded.

“Indubitably.”

Natasha rolled her eyes.

Nick stared at Bucky, and he withered beneath the man’s intense scrutiny, especially with the way his gaze lingered on Bucky’s missing arm.

“Hm,” he said at last. “So you think you can draw Steve back here with his scent?” He turned to Natasha.

She nodded. “Steve’s not far from here, and knowing him, he’ll rush back when he hears Bucky got hurt.” She glared at Nick. 

He threw up his hands. “I’m not getting into this again. What happened, happened. The guards in question will be disciplined.”

“Disciplined?” Bucky blurted out. All gazes fell on him. Why had he spoken? Right--the word ‘discipline’ triggered some rather unpleasant memories from his days with Hydra. He forged ahead anyways, determined. “There’s no reason to punish them for doing their job.”

“Discipline does not mean punishment,” Nick said, his gaze sharper, shrewd. “Not here it doesn’t.”

“Oh. Right.” Bucky ducked his head, embarrassed.

“I take it you know of Hydra then?” Nick continued.

“Intimately.” Bucky raised his stump. 

Nick said nothing as he stroked his chin, brows furrowed. 

“See?” Natasha said. “He’s committed to the cause, and with him and Steve with us, we stand a better chance. Train your men to recognize enemies versus friends, and we create an allied front.”

Nick didn’t comment on her jab. “So what’s the plan?”

“Get Steve back, first and foremost.”

“And let me make Buckaroo an arm that will cut down Hydra in its tracks,” Stark interrupted. “I’ve already got some specs.” He glanced at Bucky. “Care to see the drafts of the design?”

Bucky straightened. “God yes.” He flushed and moved to get out of bed, but his torso twinged. He exhaled a breath of pain.

“Stay right there,” Stark said. “I’ll be back.” He disappeared out the door.

Meanwhile, Natasha, Nick, and Clint huddled away from Bucky’s bed, conversing in a mixture of sign language and urgent whispers. Bucky hoped they were hatching up a fool-proof way to ensure Steve’s return.

Stark blustered back into the room with rolls of parchment under his arms. He lay them on top of Bucky’s legs, then unfolded them. 

Bucky’s eyes widened. When he’d thought of a prosthetic, he’d thought of heavy metal carved into the crude shape of an arm, which would act as a bludgeon if anything. He hadn’t considered a piece that looked like it could move, and with fingers that could  _bend_  if the drawings indicated anything.

Before Bucky became a soldier, he’d considered apprenticing at the blacksmith’s. He’d always been fascinated by the intricacies of metalwork, and Stark’s ideas were beautiful. Bucky couldn’t speak, blown away by what was on the paper. It seemed similar to a real arm, except metal. But that wasn’t possible, was it?

“You like?” Stark asked, a glint in his eyes. 

“Yeah, but...wouldn’t it be heavy?”

“Nope. I created a new metal alloy that is lightweight but strong. Stronger than dragon teeth. I would know.” He winked. 

“And it moves?”

“Does it ever! Should be exactly like a flesh arm and flesh hand.”

“How?”

“Magic.” Stark’s humor faded. “It’ll hurt getting attached, but I can use my magic to sync it up with your nervous system. Then it’ll move when you tell it to.”

“Mr. Stark...” Bucky couldn’t even begin to know how much a miracle like that would cost. “What do I owe you?”

“Call me Tony. And nothing.” He waved his hand. “You’re Steve’s rider. Steve’s an old family friend. I don’t mind. Plus, he’ll owe me.” He sobered again. “This is also my contribution to taking down Hydra. I’m sick of those assholes.”

“You and me both,” Bucky said, and he and Tony shared a laugh.

“Shall I get started then?” Tony asked. “You suggest any changes?”

Bucky startled.

“What, you thought I wouldn’t let you have a say in your own arm? Come on, kid.” Tony clapped Bucky’s shoulder. 

“I do have a few ideas,” Bucky started, and for the next few hours, he and Tony went over the arm, piece by piece. 

Excitement flurried in Bucky’s stomach. He couldn’t wait to get his arm  _and_  get Steve back. It seemed too good to be true, but he had faith, and he was surrounded by the best of people. 

How lucky he was.


	15. Chapter 15

“You ready?”

Bucky blew out a long breath as he relaxed on Tony’s work table. His ribs only twinged slightly, evidence that they were almost fully healed. About time, really. It had been almost two weeks.

Tony stood beside him, Bucky’s new metal arm in hand. It was beautiful, and gleamed even in the dim lighting of the smithy, including the white star surrounded by red and blue rings that Bucky had requested, as it matched the symbol on Steve’s belly. 

If he really  _was_ going to be Steve’s rider, he wanted them to appear the part.

Bucky could never have imagined that an intricate prosthesis like that would come together so quickly, but as he learned, little could distract Tony when he’d started a new project. At least, that’s what Pepper said. 

She was Tony’s manager, for lack of a better word. Bucky had yet to figure out her relationship with the dragon, but in some ways, she exuded an otherworldly aura not unlike Tony’s - fiery, powerful, yet contained to a sharp point, and always ready to lash out but with a smirk and an intelligent quip. 

Bucky knew for a fact, though, that she wasn’t his rider. No, that honor went to a man named James Rhodes--“Rhodey”--who appeared to be Tony’s opposite in almost everything from demeanor to personal beliefs. He was a military man, and seemed serious except for the times he rolled his eyes in Tony’s presence. Which was often.

“Don’t try to understand them,” Clint had advised when Bucky raised an eyebrow in response to Tony and Rhodey’s bickering one night, several days before the arm’s completion. “I don’t get it either, but they make it work.”

“It” being their arrangement in New City. Rhodey worked closely with the mayor in some high-level position while Tony maintained his shop. Meanwhile, Pepper supplied Tony with clientele and materials. 

“Tony doesn’t fight anymore,” Natasha said after Bucky asked why Tony kept in human form most of the time. It seemed strange that he would remain in this kind of position when he clearly had a capable rider and could venture wherever he wanted. But as Natasha continued, “He and Steve had a falling out that really rattled him.” Her gaze had grown distant. “They both made mistakes.”

“But he’s still helping me.”

Natasha just glanced at him. “Yes. You, and many others.”

And well, Bucky felt even more indebted to Tony after that.

Which was why, as he let his weight sink onto the table, he asked, “Are you sure I can’t repay you somehow?” 

Tony’s face loomed above him. “Would you stop asking that? Especially before I’m about to tickle your brain--and not in a happy way. Seriously, kid, it’s fine.”

Bucky couldn’t will away his guilt, though, especially at the shadows under Tony’s eyes. Part of the argument with Rhodey had been over Tony’s lack of sleep and food while he crafted Bucky’s arm. 

“Everything’s all set, then?” Pepper said as she swept into the room, her ginger hair spilling over her shoulders. When she caught Bucky’s gaze, she smiled, and he swore her eyes flashed yellow. A sudden thought struck him. 

Was she human?

But then Rhodey strode in and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m here.”

“Fabulous. Then we’re good to go.” Tony shot his rider a grin before waggling his eyebrows. 

Bucky didn’t understand their dynamic, but he could appreciate the long-suffering sigh Rhodey released. Bucky had had similar feelings about Steve--fond amusement mixed with annoyance.

Throughout his recovery, Bucky had alternated between watching Tony tinker on his arm, and wandering New City, mouth agape at the amazing structures all around him. The city was huge and sprawling, and while the roads were packed with people and animals, the skyline was filled with buildings. The energy here was fast-paced, exciting, and Bucky might’ve enjoyed it more had he not been hoping that Steve would be back by now.

Natasha had set her plan in motion, and all that was left was to wait. But for how long? And what was Bucky expecting upon Steve’s return? He still hadn’t quite wrapped his mind around the reality of the situation.

According to his new companions, he was Steve’s rider. He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, except that it was big, especially in the war about to recommence.   

Had he and Steve really been fated for each other as rider and dragon? It all seemed too impossible, and yet here Bucky was, about to get a metal arm. 

“Alright Bucky-boo,” Tony said. “I’m not gonna lie--this part hurts like a bitch.”

Bucky trembled and began to sweat, his jaw clenched. He could deal with pain. He was used to pain. “Do it,” he said through gritted teeth.

Tony nodded, and Rhodey helped him line up the arm to Bucky’s bare stump. Then Tony pressed his hands to Bucky’s temples. 

Electricity stabbed through Bucky’s every pore, and he would’ve screamed except that he couldn’t open his mouth. His muscles twitched and seared in agony, and Bucky knew, he  _knew_ , this whole journey had just been a dream. He was still with Hydra, and they were taking his arm and he’d never escape, never be free--

And then it was over. 

Bucky gulped a huge breath and let it out in a whoosh as his body sagged onto the table. Next to him, Tony was pale, and Rhodey’s eyes were wide. 

Pepper approached, her face creased in concern. “Well?”

A few seconds passed before Bucky realized she was talking to him. He turned to his left and braced himself. 

At a mere thought, his arm lifted and his fingers flexed. 

“Oh my god,” he breathed.

He had his arm back.

* * *

 

That night, Bucky spread out on his mattress, both arms in the air as he compared the two side-by-side. Tony had gotten the dimensions right--the muscle curvature, the length, the width, the way it shifted. What a gorgeous piece of machinery. Now, all Bucky had to do was keep practicing. He was stronger than he was used to, and he’d crushed some utensils at lunch and even dented a metal plate before he’d realized it. The sensory input was also different, more based on pressure than texture or temperature.

A strange feeling made him sit up suddenly, and he frowned. It was dark out, but he needed to be outside.

Bucky slipped out of his room, then out of Tony’s shop without being seen. The streets were empty, and glowed only faintly under the light of luminescent lanterns strung on poles along the roadside. 

Bucky took a few steps, confused, and then saw him.

There, standing in the middle of the street, was a small man in a hideous poncho and lumpy hat. 

Bucky’s heart jumped into his throat. “Steve?”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does time move so fast? I swore I just updated this yesterday, but no...apparently it's been more than two weeks! Sorry about the delay! I hope this lives up to your expectations.

Steve’s name hung in the night air for a moment. Bucky could barely breathe as his chest squeezed with joy and relief.

Across from him, Steve offered a sheepish smile, though worry tinged his gaze. “Hello, James. Are you alright?”

And just like that, Bucky’s warm and fuzzy feelings vanished. Fury boiled inside him until he saw red. “Am I  _alright_? How would you know or care?” He stalked forward. “You left!”

Steve flinched back, and the awful hat drooped over his face. He tugged it into place. “You were home, and safe and--”

“You promised that we would take down Hydra together!”

“Well, I never actually said those words--”

Bucky surged forward again, but this time, Steve didn’t move. He lifted his chin, defiant, and his dragon eyes seemed to glow in the darkness as they reflected the light from a nearby lantern. 

Bucky stopped right before him, and though he towered over Steve, Steve didn’t recoil. 

“I did what I did to help you,” Steve said. “You’ve suffered enough. I didn’t want you to have to fight again.”

“That’s  _my_  choice to make, not yours.” Bucky trembled with rage and a desire to reach out and touch, though he didn’t. “You’re a giant hypocrite about choices, you realize. How long have you known?”

Steve turned away, which was answer enough, but Bucky needed to hear him say it.

“How long have you known I was your rider?”

There was a long pause, and then finally, Steve’s voice was quiet. “I didn’t realize at first, but the more time we spent together... I knew the bond was forming and I... I panicked.” He faced Bucky. “I fought Hydra a long time ago, and it was brutal, bloody. We lost too many. I couldn’t do that to you or your family.”  

Silence fell. Bucky was so close to Steve, their breaths mingled. A surge of affection burst through him, and he wanted nothing more than to gather Steve into his arms. He was still too mad, though, and simply stood, staring. It was like the rest of the world had fallen away, and they were the only two people that existed.

“I’ve already been fighting in a war,” Bucky said at last. “I know what it’s like, believe me.” He hefted his new arm, and Steve finally seemed to notice the difference.

With reverence, Steve gripped his metal hand in his, and Bucky gasped. He could  _feel_  Steve’s warmth radiating through his palm. Tony’s magic was truly incredible.

“Stark?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded. “Now you’ve got a fully functioning rider.”

“You were always fully functioning.” He released Bucky’s hand and retreated a few steps. He dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly? For leaving? Denying our connection? Thinking you could fight Hydra alone?”

A wry grin appeared on Steve’s face as he gave a pitiful shrug. “All of the above?”

Bucky’s anger slowly dissolved as he couldn’t help but smile in return. He shook his head, fond. “You’re an idiot. And here I thought dragons were supposed to have wisdom in their old age.”

“You have met Tony, right?” Steve asked.

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, but he’s brilliant. They all are, your friends--Natasha, Clint, Pepper, Rhodey, maybe even Nick Fury.”

Steve assumed an awed expression. “You’ve met quite a few people since I left.”

“Well, I had to find your dumb ass and drag you back, didn’t I? I needed help for that, and Natasha was already looking for you. She knew you’d come for me, eventually. I’m your rider.”

Another silence fell, but this one was charged, tense. 

Bucky approached Steve again. “I need you to promise me something.” He held out his hands, which Steve clasped in his own. Bucky shivered at the warmth of the touch. 

Steve raised his gaze to lock with Bucky’s. 

“I’m with you till the end of the line, you hear me?” Bucky said. “If that means fighting Hydra, then I’m there. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

Steve exhaled a shaky breath as his eyes fluttered closed. “Bucky,” he whispered.

Bucky shivered again. It was the first time Steve had used his nickname.

“You’re too good for me,” Steve said, his eyes open. “But I promise we’re in this together. Whatever happens.”

Bucky gasped as a pulse of electricity coursed between them. He’d associated the feeling with pain, but this felt like...like flying. Like he could conquer the world. 

Without another thought, Bucky reeled Steve in until their chests pressed against each other. Then he wrapped both arms around his small yet fierce dragon, who hugged him back so hard, his hat fell off and neither of them bothered to retrieve it.

They stayed like that for a long while, though time had no meaning to Bucky. People might’ve passed them on the street, but he didn’t acknowledge them. Instead, he breathed in the smell of Steve, the slight scent of burning and musk from his travel-worn poncho. 

When they at last separated, they still kept their right hands clenched together. Steve grabbed his hat, and then Bucky led Steve to Tony’s smithy and the guest room where he’d been staying. He was sure the other dragons knew of Steve’s presence, but they were left alone as he closed his bedroom door and yanked Steve onto the bed with him. 

Steve fit perfectly against his chest as Bucky spooned him from behind. He loved the fact that Bucky could comfort him like this in human form, while Steve could offer the same in dragon form. Bucky reached the fingers of his flesh hand up to stroke Steve’s pointy ears, and Steve shuddered against him before a low rumbling filled the room. 

Bucky froze at the sound, before a huff of laughter escaped his lips. “Are you  _purring_?”

The purring paused. “Yes,” Steve said, almost embarrassed, except that the noise instantly resumed.

Bucky laughed again, and Steve squirmed. 

“You’re breathing on my neck, and it tickles.”

“How are you a dragon? More like a cat,” Bucky said. He giggled at Steve’s attempt at a glare, hindered by Bucky’s hold on him.

“You’re a jerk,” Steve said. 

“And you’re a little punk,” Bucky said. 

“Little? Should I transform?”

Bucky snorted. “No. Not now. Now, you’re staying right here.” He tightened his arms around Steve, and let his eyes drift closed. 

They were quiet for a long moment, basking in each other’s embrace.

“Thank you for coming back,” Bucky said. 

“I will always come for you,” Steve said, and Bucky allowed himself to sink into sleep, knowing with one hundred percent certainty that Steve would be there in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, fanfic, for making me realize that I really like purring as a thing lol!


	17. Chapter 17

“Nice of you to join us,” Tony said as Bucky and Steve exited their bedroom in the morning, hands entwined. 

Tony was seated at his dining room table along with Natasha and Clint, both of whom raised their eyebrows at Steve.

Against his flesh hand, Bucky could feel Steve’s palm start to sweat. 

Steve himself couldn’t look up, and kept his head lowered. “I’m sorry,” he said at last.

Natasha growled under her breath. 

Steve responded in kind, though an indignant expression crossed his face before he flushed. 

Tony just snickered as he sipped out of a steaming mug. 

Clint shot Bucky an exasperated look as the grumbling match continued. “Dragons. Honestly.”

Bucky sat at the table next to Clint while Natasha leapt forward to shove Steve into the corner and continue their heated conversation. 

“What are they saying?” Bucky asked Tony, the only one of them who could understand dragon language.

“Nothing they’d let me repeat without a threat of violence.” Even as he spoke, Natasha paused to narrow her eyes at him. “Gulp,” Tony said. “Yeah, I’m not getting in the middle of that.”

Bucky tried to meet Steve’s gaze, but Steve remained fixed on Natasha. 

“Don’t worry, Buckle-bee,” Tony said. “They just got some stuff to sort out. Then we’ll all be friends again.” He stood and yawned. “Anyways, I got work to do today. You interested in helping? It’s more prosthesis designs, now that you’re all squared away. What say you?”

“Um.” Bucky hesitated. With Steve back, a new urgency tingled under his skin, an urgency related to war, and strategy, and the elimination of Hydra. “Maybe later. I’m not sure...”

Tony gasped dramatically and clutched at his heart. “I am hurt. Abandoning one dragon for another. How rude.” But he winked and sauntered to his workshop without another backward glance.

Clint pushed a plate at him, and Bucky accepted the bread and fruit with energy. He was ready to do this, finally. Now that Steve was over his whole martyr routine, they could plan how to end the biggest threat to their world. 

“What do you think’s going to happen now?” Bucky asked once he'd gotten Clint’s attention. He swallowed a hunk of bread. “I assume we need to do some recon to get a size of their troops, see what we’re up against.”

Clint shrugged.

“Not a bad idea,” Natasha said, and Bucky jumped as she scraped back a chair to plop next to her rider. Steve sat on the other side of Bucky, so close they were practically touching.

“The problem is, we’re up against a lot,” she continued. She snagged an apple right off Bucky’s plate. He opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it when she took a savage bite.

“Hydra has their own dragons and riders,” Clint filled in for her, and Bucky choked on air. Next to him, Steve stiffened.

Bucky knew dragons were on both sides of the war back in Steve’s heyday with Peggy, but the reality of it hadn’t hit him until now.

As a dragon rider, he’d face  _other_  dragon riders, which meant aerial battles. More of what Steve experienced when he’d taken on Hydra alone and received a lance in the side, and more of the panic that ensued when Natasha was shot out of the sky.

Bucky’s stomach lurched. He’d said he wanted in on this fight, but now...now he had to prepare for a whole new kind of experience. 

Steve seemed to read his thoughts, for he laid a hand on Bucky’s thigh and squeezed gently.

“We just need more allies,” Steve said. He smiled at Bucky, reassuring. “We had plenty in the first war.”

“That’s just it,” Natasha said. She spat out an apple seed. “It’s been decades since then. I’ve been trying to track down our former team, but so many of them went underground, or to sleep.” She smirked at Steve, who let out a long sigh.

“I said I was sorry.”

“Yes. Well, now we’re going to look together. We’ll start with Bruce. I have a feeling I know where he’s hiding.”

Steve jerked. “Bruce? I thought he didn’t want to fight anymore.”

“It’s either we convince him this new fight’s worth it, or the world crashes and burns under Hydra’s reign.”

“But--”

She interrupted him with his dragon name. “We can’t go against Hydra with just the four of us.” Her quiet voice softened the blow of her words.

Steve gritted his teeth. 

Bucky covered Steve’s hand with his own. “My men can help. We’re just a human army, but they’re some of the most skilled soldiers I’ve ever met. And I know I can get my troop to join us.” 

Steve offered him a grin. “Thank you, Ja-- Bucky.”

“Oh oh, me! Over here!” 

They all glanced over at Tony, who’d reappeared in the doorway. He raised his hand as if at school. “Pick me! I wanna help. Me, Pepper, and Rhodes are in. Not for the whole ‘tracking’ bit, but at the end.”

Natasha’s smile was wry. “Aw. You’re going to fight with us this time?”

“Yep.” Tony’s lips popped the ‘p.’ “And I think I can help you find a few others. Thor’s slumming it with some humans in the west, near the desert. And Vision went off with Wanda and Pietro. Not sure where they ended up, but I last saw them heading east. Though, that was admittedly like six years ago.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve said. “Really. You’ve helped so much...” He indicated Bucky’s arm. 

“Well, I’m a real good helper, Cap. Also, I’ve missed your ugly mug.”

Steve chuckled. “I certainly didn’t miss yours.” He shook his head, fond. “You’re really okay fighting with us?”

Tony grinned and flexed his muscles. “Oh yeah, it’ll be good to stretch my wings again. And Pepper has had the urge to set  _so many things_  on fire that she could just let go like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“Um?” Bucky said before he could stop himself. “Should I be worried?”

“It’s okay,” Steve said with a smile. “Pepper’s a phoenix. A powerful one, but she’s on our side.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open as he stared at Tony. “A  _phoenix_? How...?”

Tony waved him off. “It’s a long story.”

“What’s this about me being awesome?” Pepper herself said as she swept into the room. 

Tony wrapped an arm around her waist. “Nothing, babe. Just saying that it’ll be great when you burn Hydra to the ground.”

Pepper’s smile was wicked, and her eyes blazed with flames for a moment. 

“Whoa,” Bucky breathed. “I’m glad you’re with us.”

“Exactly,” Natasha said. “No one’s alone in this.” She eyed Steve pointedly. “We take down Hydra  _together_. We’ll leave to find Bruce tonight, so we can fly under cover of darkness.”

“Yes!” Clint pumped his fist in the air. “New mission time. Love it.”

Bucky faced Steve. “I need to send a message to my men. They don’t even know that I’m alive.”

Steve helped him to his feet. “Then we need to go the post office. Come on.”

They all dispersed after that. Bucky was glad for the breather, and let his head clear as he and Steve steered through New City.

“Do you think we stand a chance?” he asked after a few moments of strolling through the morning crowd. Bucky may have powerful friends now, but he knew what Hydra could do.

Steve pressed closer to him. “I think we’ll have them on the ropes.”  

Bucky smiled, but inside, he braced himself.

Hydra wouldn’t go down easy.


	18. Chapter 18

Fire filled his mind, a searing agony that Bucky tried to jerk away from, except that he was strapped to a cold table. Faces leered over him, and when one got too close, his metal arm shot out to tighten over the man’s throat. 

The man’s eyes bugged as he choked and pried at Bucky’s fingers, but Bucky didn’t relent until his victim’s skin paled and he flopped forward, tongue lolling from his mouth. Chilling laughter broke out, and Bucky shivered except  _he_  was the one laughing as if murder pleased him and--

_Bucky. Shh, you’re safe. Wake up._

Bucky jolted awake and flailed for a moment as wind rushed by. He sat lashed to Steve the dragon’s back, and he and Steve were flying behind Clint and Natasha on their way to find this mysterious ‘Bruce’ fellow who would help them against Hydra.

Bucky leaned forward over Steve’s neck, not ashamed to hug him tight as he panted. The images of the nightmare slowly leaked away, replaced by the red scales Bucky could count to distract himself. They glittered in the dawn light, and Bucky marveled at them. 

Compared to Natasha, Steve  _was_  smaller, but Bucky thought he was the perfect size--and the perfect color. Steve was beautiful like this, his wings outstretched, banking through the air, Bucky in his rightful place on Steve’s back.

They’d been flying all night, but Bucky could sense that Steve wasn’t tired in the least. No, he was excited, happy, determined. Perhaps it was their bond solidifying, or perhaps it was that Bucky knew Steve well by now, but he could tell that Steve was most content when he had a mission, and specifically one to help others. 

The dragon thrived on danger, especially when it threatened himself. Bucky fondly rolled his eyes.

 _Are you alright?_  Steve asked inside Bucky’s head.

“Oh. Yeah. Just a nightmare, sorry.” He glanced down at his metal arm, and flexed the fingers. He could almost feel the soft skin of the man’s neck as he squeezed... “A really weird one.” The man was one he recognized--a Hydra operative who’d tortured him more than once. 

If only Bucky had a metal arm during his time as prisoner, he might’ve escaped sooner. 

Although he wouldn’t want a prosthesis from Hydra.

 _Nightmares are nothing to apologize for,_  Steve said.

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I just don’t want you to think I’m not enjoying this. Because I am.” 

It was true. Bucky had experienced it only once, but there was nothing in the world like flying on Steve’s back. Riding Natasha was similar but at once starkly different in ways Bucky couldn’t describe. He just...felt  _right_  with Steve. Safe, whole. This was where Bucky belonged. 

He’d never felt so alive.

Steve roared, echoing Bucky’s sentiments. In front of them at a diagonal, Natasha craned her neck back to roar in reply. She would lead them first to Bruce, and then they’d find Bucky’s old garrison if they were lucky.

Bucky waved at Clint, who waved back, and they continued their flight. 

Steve put on a burst of speed that made Bucky smile, and he knew Steve would be able to feel it. He didn’t know  _how_  he knew, but they’d been doing that a lot since Steve returned. Bucky had noticed that his thoughts and feelings were started to blur with Steve’s, like they were melding together. It posed an interesting question. 

After a time, Bucky at last asked Steve, “How exactly does this dragon and rider bond work?” 

_It’s different for every pair. With Peggy, the bond struck right away, but it took a while until we were truly attuned to each other._

Bucky swallowed, his mouth abruptly dry. “And with me?”

Steve didn’t answer right away. Bucky’s stomach squirmed, and he had the sudden realization that the sensation came from Steve. He was nervous, maybe even embarrassed. It made Bucky equally so.

Finally, Steve started,  _Our bond was not as immediately apparent, b_ _ut..._

“But?” 

_But ours feels like it is and will be much more powerful._

Bucky stared at the back of Steve’s head. A rush of wind made his hair whip behind him--thankfully not in his face, thanks to riding goggles Tony had given him before leaving. 

 _We are already joining_ , Steve continued. 

“What does that mean? Is that a good thing?”

Steve snorted, and a small cloud of smoke puffed from his right nostril.  _It’s a good thing. It means we’ll be unstoppable in battle._

For some reason, Steve’s words weren’t a comfort. Bucky would’ve reflected on why had there not been a shout from up ahead.

_Incoming!_

A low rumble echoed, and suddenly a massive green dragon--two times the size of Natasha--appeared in front of them, gnashing its teeth while fire made its cheeks glow neon. Its tail, free of spikes but longer than Steve’s and Natasha’s combined, flicked through the air as the beast hovered, a scowl contorting its features. 

A wild mane of dark purplish-green fur covered its head and back in place of ridges, but even though nothing pointy jutted from its frame, Bucky knew that this dragon could take Steve and Natasha down with no problem whatsoever. The sheer size of the beast made him want to cower. 

Natasha drew up to a halt, and Steve stopped several paces behind her, flapping his wings to keep airborne. She growled to the newcomer, and Bucky sucked in a breath in realization.

“ _That’s_  Bruce?”

 _Yes._ Steve’s voice was taut, which made Bucky tremble. This was their friend, right? So why did Steve sound so afraid?

The answer came in the form of a bellow and a jet of greenish flame that barely missed Bucky’s head--only because Steve reacted in time. He swerved and Bruce charged, his next roar so loud Bucky felt the vibrations course through him like an earthquake.

Steve zipped away from Bruce’s attack as Natasha snapped at Bruce’s tail, Clint flat against her back. Bruce turned on her and spat another gush of flame, though Natasha rolled to avoid it. 

Then it was Steve’s turn to growl at Bruce, hopefully convincing him to stand down because they weren’t the enemy.

Bucky swallowed a scream when Steve spiraled to evade another charge. He and Natasha alternated roles as Bruce attacked them back and forth, his attention directed to whoever seemed to anger him most. Bucky was glad he hadn’t eaten breakfast, because Steve’s sudden dives and sharp maneuvers made his stomach heave.

What felt like hours later, Bruce stopped fighting. He shook his huge head, and then blinked at Steve and Natasha as if seeing them for the first time. The next growl he emitted was soft, plaintive. Apologetic. 

Bucky released a long sigh of relief. Something was off with Bruce, but if they could get him to fight with them, Hydra would have a tough time for sure.

With Bruce apparently mollified, the three dragons slowly descended through the clouds, intent on a barren plateau. Scattered across the expanse were other rock formations of varying sizes and shapes. Heat rolled off the stone in waves, and Bucky was again amazed at his ever-widening world. 

When they landed, Bucky kept his gaze on Bruce. He gasped when, the instant they touched down, Bruce transformed into a bedraggled, middle-aged man with graying hair and rumpled clothes.

Bucky and Clint dismounted, and Steve and Natasha assumed their own human forms.

Bruce nodded at them, a wry tilt to his lips. “Natasha. Steve.”

“Bruce,” Steve said with a smile. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah. Um. Sorry about...” He waved his hands vaguely.

Natasha huffed but grinned. “I expected it, honestly.” She glanced at Clint, and after a quick wordless conversation between the two of them, Clint stepped forward and offered a hand. 

“I’m Clint. Nat’s rider.”

Then Steve faced Bucky, who stepped forward. “And I’m Bucky.” Bruce’s hand was cold as they shook.

“He’s my rider,” Steve said as he moved to stand close to Bucky.

Bruce smiled. “I gathered that.”

“Now that we’ve all met, is there somewhere we can go to talk?” Natasha asked. “I don’t mind soaking up the sun, but I think our humans will melt.” She smirked at Bucky, then Clint who exaggeratedly fanned himself. The sun was indeed hot here even in the early morning, especially with no shade for miles.

“I have a cave,” Bruce said, his shoulders sagging. “Follow me.”

As they trailed after him, Bucky wondered just what they were getting themselves into. Who exactly  _was_  Bruce?

Something was odd with him, but Steve offered a comforting smile.

Well, if Steve wasn’t freaked out, there was no reason for Bucky to be. He smiled back and joined Steve as they traveled through the desert.


End file.
